The Reporter and The Dust of Dee Dee
by Fireflower19
Summary: Back to known normalcy, though with a few issues budding, the return of a woman will leave the Angels and their Tamers gob-smacked and soon scrambling. Prepare for more art, more drugs leading to more problems, and hilarity with messed-up drama. *Sequel to "PFL"*
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I have DNA, but, sadly, I don't own D.N. Angel.

**A/N:**** DO NOT READ UNLESS YOU HAVE READ "THE PHOENIX, THE FLAME AND THE LEAF OF MARY J"! And just to point out, I don't do drugs. I also don't hurt animals in any way; I help take care of them in a homemade sanctuary. I know the recurring theme may suggest differently, but it's for comical purposes only. And the "animals" (more like creatures) aren't in pain. They just keep sorta having to... uh... fix themselves. **

**Special Thanks To: My Tiger for helping me develop this sequel. I dreamed of the gems and he thought of the dragon, and... Oh. You guys shouldn't know of that yet. **

**)*(**The Reporter and The Dust of Dee Dee**)*(**

By: Fireflower19

**-****)*(****-**

"You think I would just let you take it, as simple as that?" Krad charged the small distance between them and gave a thrust of his wings for added power, lifting both his feet inches above the floor as he lunged towards the black-clothed offender. He swung again with his right fist, barely missing a sidestepping Dark, who just managed to safely ram a small, decorated ring into his back pocket. Purple hair made the barest of touches against white knuckles as Krad missed and raced past. Dark quickly steadied himself and went into an immediate series of back-flips across the expansive marble floor, needing to put some distance between his raging other self—whom was already spinning around to face him again. The blond hunter was so angry that his mere presences cloyed the entire elaborate room.

Their new lighter-hearted battles hadn't lasted very long. The scarring simply ran too deep between the two, and their vastly different objectives constantly clashed. A blowup like this was bound to have happened sooner or later. Straightening, Dark took a second to draw his hand across his bleeding lip—where Krad had nailed him with a surprise shot in a sneak attack and first initiated the fight.

"You're awful determined," the kaito noted out loud, addressing the other with an agitated wrinkling of his forehead and curl of his sore lips.

"Am I not always?" Krad asked, a cruel smile tugging his own lips apart as he drew a white feather from neatly folded wings behind him.

"You'd better hurry, then." Dark inclined his head to an open door far on his left. He couldn't see anything outside it but the gray brick wall that curved around with the staircase, but he could hear the running footfalls coming up and closer. "We're about to be intruded upon." He smirked before lightly stepping to his right; almost dancing to close-in diagonally to Krad.

"Finally." Krad's golden eyes narrowed in mirth. "Tired of running?" The hunter readied himself into a wider stance.

"You could say that."

The attack came so swiftly. It was hard to process what had happened. Dark was suddenly right in front of the white angel, his open hand swiping horizontally for Krad's exposed neck. The amethyst eyes shining so brightly with magic looked so focused, but strangely empty of emotions. It reminded Krad too much of his own, angering him further.

Pulling a burst of speed to match his opposite, Krad stepped back, reaching and capturing Dark's striking limb. With a twist and a pull the kaito rocketed forward. The move exposed Dark's ribs. Like a spear, Krad's hand shot out for the target, intent on diving between the bones. Within a split-second Dark reasoned his best options and chose one: The phantom thief continued into the pull with a push of his foot, adding to his momentum. Krad felt the tips of his fingers connect, knifing past tough fabric to pop into skin and the warm wetness beneath.

Faces so close; almost twin-like, aside from the differences in hair and eyes; Dark's eyes finally showed a hint of something.

Pain.

A roaring came to Krad's ears, and unexpectedly, slipping over his fingers was a thick blackness—not blood. Fluttering darkness sped around on both sides, seeming to wrap around him. Then the wisps pooled together and Dark was suddenly directly behind. Krad could literally feel retribution coming as the slight sounds of the kaito made it to his ears. Too fast; an arm hooked around his throat, but before pressure could be applied Krad used his wings to thrust backward. Bending at the same time, Krad nearly came up underneath his opposite. He certainly rocketed them back a ways, surprising the kaito as he also came upward with as much force as his long legs could supply.

Dark almost had time to clear his lungs. Quickly exhaling what he could, he avoided being completely winded as the hit lifted him off the floor by his chest. He went into a roll as his counterpart bucked him over a shoulder. The thief's efforts sent him out of Krad's immediate range, and allowed him ample time to recover and get his bearings—easily getting up into an immediate counterattack. Turning for his enemy, while simultaneously dragging air mercilessly back into his battered lungs, Dark charged, snarling and showing his fangs like a vicious wild animal. Krad used the extra protection of a large wing as Dark slammed with a fist. At the hit, white feathers scattered all in front of the kaito like a snowstorm. A white boot shot out of it. Dark grabbed it before it could connect and twisted.

With a roar, he slung with all his might, pulling his nemesis out of the disorienting debris and sending Krad like a misfired shot across the room and into an intricately carved pillar. Falling away from the erected stone, Krad pushed off the floor as soon as he touched the level surface, standing with only a small stagger. He welcomed his yelling reflection as Dark sped for him with a clawed hand raised.

And that's where everything went black.

For the both of them.

**-.-**

Cold metal bars pressed relentlessly into the side of his face. Krad carefully blinked open his eyes, feeling as if cracks were spreading from the recent knot on the back of his skull. The first sight that registered was the extremely bright lights glaring off the floor from beneath the uncomfortable bars. Gently, Krad un-wedged himself from the unforgiving metal and pushed to sit up, leaning back against the wall of what was most definitely a heavy-duty cage. It was nearly tall enough for him to stand in. He rubbed a gloved hand across his cheek as he looked around, studying the contraption and surroundings (which hadn't changed as he was still within the room of the museum, almost to the very spot he last remembered being), noticing with his clothed fingers that there were deep imprints in his skin.

He must have been out for a good half-hour or more if the prickly sensation in the whole half-side of him was anything to go by. His hand slowly lowered as golden eyes locked onto the other side of the cage and what it confined. Present, though separated by more thick bars, was Dark; sitting and leaning nonchalantly on the inside of the cage adjacent of him. Dark lifted a knee and balanced an arm on top of it. Purple eyes blinked, but didn't look over. Instead, they focused on an unimportant spot of pristine flooring, looking lost in thought.

"What you in for?" Dark finally spoke, his voice holding a tad of amusement.

"Why are we in this? Who set it up?" Krad demanded, feeling his temper pour back into his veins at the mere sight of the kaito.

"How should I know?" Purple eyes were still intensely focused on the floor. "I'm not even sure where this thing," Dark lifted the arm draped across his knee to tap against the metal behind him, "came from. But keep things toned down—reporters came in and wheeled live cameras into the corners of this exhibit." Krad immediately jerked his head to the four corners of the room, seeing large wheeled-tripods with bulky cameras staring at them from all angles; each with a little red dot lit on their tops.

Were they on Live TV?

"Since when is it a reporter's goal to trap their subjects?" Krad growled, eying the devices and their devious reflecting lenses while pulling to test the strength of a few random bars. They were quite thick, and none of them were loose. The welding was even reinforced, but that didn't explain the seeming lack of a built-in door. Surely it was just well camouflaged within the structure, though that didn't help any at finding it. Dark probably knew where his was on this conjoined caged, but the hunter wouldn't dare ask for the location of his own.

"Again, I don't know," Dark said, sounding curious. Krad looked over at him, fuming. Dark didn't seem worried at all over their shared predicament, which irked the white angel to no end.

"Well, I am not staying here to find out." Krad reached behind him and pulled a feather. Dark finally regarded the other as he tilted his head and looked out the corner of his eyes.

"You shouldn't do that."

"And why not?" Krad asked, glaring and lifting his feather to a single bar as if to slice through it.

"Call it a hunch." Dark shrugged and went back to semi-ignoring the other. Krad already knew well why he shouldn't.

"Dark's right: you shouldn't do that," came a steady and unforgettable feminine voice from behind the pillar. _She_ was behind them. The cage suddenly shook and rattled as Dark sprung up and hit its unyielding roof with a bang. He quickly bent to his knees, holding his head with a whimper as pain came, blocking his vision with stars. Krad nearly ricocheted to the opposite side of the cage, white feathers bending some as wings snapped across the interior of the metal.

"I see you both haven't _forgotten_." There was unmistakable anger in the comment, and a touch of hurt. There was also a supreme sense of satisfaction and joy.

Still crouched, Dark spun on his heels, his eyes wide and staring at a well-dressed Miranda.

_She remembers! Krad didn't erase her memory?_ Dark glanced searchingly over at his opposite, but the appalled look of shock and horror as Krad appeared to be mumbling to himself told the kaito that the hunter at least thought he had successfully wiped their time together from her.

Wait, her enunciation of "forgotten" hinted at her knowing what had been...attempted...? Done? He stared at her again, dulling noticing once more that she looked different; healthier, more radiant. And her outfit of a dress blouse and slim jeans were a sharp combination.

Dark slapped himself to bring his mind back up to pace. Also, to prove to himself that he wasn't caught in some nightmare. Unfortunately he wasn't—the slap stung something awful and didn't dispel the cage holding them. Daisuke griped about inflicting added pain, and that he was scared enough without the phantom thief losing his wits. Dark whipped his head around, searching for any bit of shadow. The blaring lights effectively lit everything brighter than day, so even if he didn't consider the cameras recording and airing, he couldn't shadow to weasel through the bars and to safety. Namely away from Miranda.

"Miranda," Krad said breathlessly. He twitched at his own voice, as if he hadn't meant to speak in an audible pitch. The cage clinked a little behind him at his movement. Miranda crossed her arms and looked down her nose at him, obviously pissed.

"The one and only."

It was as if the angels were suddenly back at her cottage, reliving the day and two nights they'd shared with her. ...And Mat.

Dark jolted upward, doing some wacky haphazard motions and turning circles within his side of the cage. It could have been a dance of some sort, but it seemed more like he was trying to shake some invisible, disgusting something off of him. This snapped Krad out of his stupor. Golden eyes regarded the thief; shaky in their disbelief, and now crinkling in confusion at the purple-haired teen. Dark stopped and explained himself.

"I thought of Mat."

"Okay." Krad's tone let it known that he didn't fully understand.

"I might have been fatally injured and unable to help it, but I still practically fell across that despicable guy's lap!" Dark shook a last time, ending on a violent shudder. Miranda giggled, drawing the twos' attention back to her.

"Glad to see you haven't changed any these last few months," she addressed Dark. Looking at both of them, she continued, "And thank you two for finally putting Mat away. The bastard deserved it and I can rest easy at night now."

"No problem," Dark said with a smile. Miranda returned one in kind. "You are going to let us out, right?" he added with a hopeful grin.

"Nope."

Dark's grin faltered. "B-but–"

"I'm a reporter now—check out the name badge," she said, plucking the plastic card on her pale-pink blouses' pocket. "It's my job to interview you guys."

The cage suddenly tipped towards her as Krad rammed it, holding the bars tightly within his fists. It crashed back down up-right, tripping the kaito and sending him to his butt. "SO THIS WAS YOUR DOING?" the white angel shouted furiously.

"Um..." Miranda scratched her cheek, hesitating in answering. "Not exactly. It was my boss's. He hired me exclusively to do reports on you two, and now he's wanting the full scoop. He keeps telling me he knows I'm the only one that can get it, but that I better get it soon in order to fulfill my contract if I want to keep my job."

This didn't appease Krad's anger. Meanwhile, Dark was still on his butt, seemingly horrified.

**'She knows our secret, Dark! And Satoshi's! How have we not had the paparazzi tearing down our door? Or worse: the police!' **Daisuke was going berserk inside with paranoia.

'Simple.' Dark's next words brought a terrible chill to the red-headed Tamer: 'Bargaining chip.'

"Let me out, or you will regret it," Krad growled. Miranda's brow wrinkled. Her face hardened as she nailed Krad with a piercing glare..

"Maybe you _have_ forgotten some things. All I have to say is your _other_ name in front of these cameras and all of Azumano will know it. And soon after that—say, oh, by tomorrow—the whole world will."

The four cameras surrounding them seemed to hum dangerously in response. Everything became still and quiet as the threat hung in the air.

"You wouldn't dare!" Dark suddenly blurted, "Not without adding the stipulation of agreeing to your interview!" Miranda looked at the phantom with appreciation and nodded.

"I was just about to say that. You guys will be free as soon as you agree to an interview with me. And," she pointed a deliberate finger at Dark, "I get to ask _anything_ I want and you _have_ to answer me with full honesty."

The blood drained from Dark's cheeks, making him appear a sick, pasty color.

"Why should I agree to that when you could expose us just as easily then? I know you; you would ask things that are way too personal."

Miranda thought about setting the kaito's worries at ease; her semi-new profession had taught her a few good tips. But, it was important to instill just how powerful her hand of cards were in this game. Besides that, it was fun watching Dark squirm.

"If that's the case, I can just say your name now and spare us the hassle, Dais–"

Dark's arms shot out of the cage and he waved them in panic. "WHOA, WHOA! OKAY, OKAY! DON'T SAY ANYMORE!"

Miranda smirked. "Do you agree to my terms, then?"

"Sure!" Dark nodded, pressed up against the bars. His nose protruded a fraction as his head quickly moved up and down. He retracted his arms, choosing to grab onto the bars instead, looking like the most hapless prison in-mate ever; especially with the helpless expression donning his features. But Miranda knew he was a sly devil.

"Promise?"

"Yeah," Dark hurriedly answered. If he was lying, he was doing a real good job of it. Miranda regarded Krad, whom had stood staring at her all this time in silence.

"And you, too, Krad?" she asked.

"Just because that lousy thief so readily agreed does not mean that I will," the hunter returned coldly.

"Really?" Miranda put her arms on her hips and took a deep breath. "SATO–" she began really loudly.

**'NO! AGREE, KRAD, AGREE!'** Satoshi shouted through their mind-link, his urgency flooding into the angel.

"STOP!" Krad yelled, also pressing his face up to the cluster of bars to better see out. His odd-colored eyes glowed, piercing more scarily than any animal's. Miranda felt a bolt of fear squeeze quickly through her at the sight. Perhaps this was the wrong...person...to lock down and threaten. Or maybe she felt that blackmailing her crush would be taken as a form of betrayal.

"Fine," Krad said more calmly, but turned his head to the side, looking away as he huffed angrily.

"Awesome!" Miranda bounced on her heels, fear forgotten. "You know, I really have missed you guys."

Dark gave a serious glance at the cameras, seeming to deeply consider something. Whatever it was, he wasn't happy about it.

"Miranda, I hate to take back what I said, but I can't give you that interview."

"What?" Happy bubble busted so quickly, Miranda looked at the thief in bewilderment. "You're kidding?"

"Afraid not," Dark glanced at the cameras again, his tone flat, "I know why your boss says you're the only one that can find out about us. You've been too obvious; he knows you've had direct interaction with us. I'm sorry, but we can't talk."

"But..." Miranda felt her stomach drop at the finality in his voice. And it was over more than just the loss of her interview, or even her career that she'd grown to love so much.

Trapping and threatening them had been a big mistake. But she'd thought if she could just get their attention... It should have all worked out!

"Dark, I didn't mean—" She walked forward just a little closer, just enough to reach for his hand, but Dark suddenly turned and bolted, throwing open the small door to the cage as if it hadn't been locked. It was low to the floor, but somehow he shot right through it head-first and still managed to speed right into a run, without ever pausing for balance. "Dark, please!"

"Alright, men, grab 'em! The reporter's had her chance, as promised!" Sergeant Saehara bellowed. The police force began pouring into the room, seeming to come from the walls themselves. Dark changed course and headed back, passing a watery-eyed Miranda for a window, but there was an officer suspended on a wire blocking his exit! What were the police thinking?

Marching footsteps, a wall of officers coming closer with batons raised—he was running out of time. Spotting a large vent cover about ten feet high, Dark seized his chance and rushed for it. He jumped impossibly high and kicked, knocking the cover clear off. He jumped again, this time sliding into it and disappearing quicker than a cat. "Just don't turn on the heater; I don't do well with hot metal," Dark's voice echoed, already sounding distant. The police all looked up at the open vent, dumbfounded. Dark had just escaped their clutches again!

He couldn't be human. Most of the police force were already mumbling this back at the station, as well as different theories of the phantom's origins every night.

"Not again, you don't," the Sergeant said. "Head 'em off!" he commanded to all the many heads filing out the room.

_They will fail again_, Krad thought, still in the cage, seeming a bit lonely without the thief. This was probably just an impression. The two appeared to belong together somehow. Like twins. Or better yet: like yin and yang.

"Krad," Miranda sniffled, "I wasn't—" But the angel interrupted her. "Stay away from me." Miranda's breath caught at the fearsome scowl her gave her. Gold flashed bright and the hunter's skin shone even brighter before white wisps mingled with the light and the cage was left empty.

Empty.

Just like her life now.

A gentle clacking of footsteps had her twisting toward the door. The end of a white cloak vanished beyond it. Krad's shadow hesitated going down the stairs, and Miranda's heart thumped; whether in hope or fear, she didn't know. But the angel continued on without turning back.

**-****)*(****-**


	2. Chapter 2

**-****)*(****-**

"I'm sorry, sir, but I resign," said a downtrodden Miranda in her boss's office the next morning. Her gaze was sorrowful and heavy as she stared at the foot of the large desk, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy. Obviously she hadn't slept, and had more than likely been keeping a box of tissues company all night. She wrapped her arms around herself, her body language speaking of hurt. All in all, she appeared beaten; like the world had won all of her betting chips in one go. Such a shame, as she was usually the best go-getter out of the reporters.

"Miranda, darling, you can't quit!" Carlos spoke loudly in a rare mood of excitement, his chair creaking from stress as he leaned forward abruptly. "Since before you left the museum last night haven't you been an overnight sensation? People want to know how you met the two angels of our city, and how you came to know the name of the 'White One'. You could have an entire nation on the tips of their toes, begging to speak with you and to make you even more famous. Begging to throw you tons of money—or heck, make that bricks of gold! Are you willing to throw all that away?"

Miranda suppressed a sniffle and covered her face with both hands where she stood, her back against the closed door.

Why was she so upset? This should have been the start to the happiest world-changing event of her life. And it could only get better and better! It confused Carlos and he frowned, no longer wanting the expensive cigar dangling from his mouth. He outed it in the ever-present ashtray on top of his desk. Finally, Miranda spoke through her fingers. Surprisingly, her voice didn't crack in the least.

"I failed. So why not? They won't ever talk with me now, and I'll never have the chance to corner them to try again. The police aren't happy that you somehow managed to talk Kei into letting me interview them before their attempt of arrest, but even with Kei as your close friend, we won't get another shot."

Carlos stood slowly, his height and girth making him an imposing figure. Truthfully, his girth was nearly all muscle. Something someone who sat behind a desk all day shouldn't have the privilege of boasting. The room seemed to shrink as he came close and put a thick arm around her shoulders, engulfing her entire body. She sagged under the weight of it, turning her head to peer up at him as she shakily lowered her hands to her sides.

"Do you think that the story you're working on—the scoop of the century—is more important than you?" His face was kind as he gave her a tiny shake, as if to rebuke such thoughts. "You're my best man...er, woman. I'm not going to fire you just because you missed one chance—let me finish!" he said, as Miranda tried to interrupt him. "I'm not going to fire you, and I'm not going to let you quit. I know you have it in you to bring these angels' secrets out."

Miranda sagged more as all the air rushed out of her in despair. If nothing else, Carlos' words made her more depressed.

"You overestimate me. Boss, there is nothing more I can do. I've tried researching every database, interviewing dozens who Dark has personally stolen from, and following the two as they fought. I just can't figure out where they go and what they do after they disappear," she said, disheartened. _Or who they really are,_ she silently added in her head.

There had been no prospective leads on the few _Daisukes _in town. Whoever the redhead was, he must keep a very low profile. He wasn't even in any clubs! She'd checked every school's club roster ten times over and scouted every single Daisuke that had showed up on them out. Not one was the one she was looking for. And, unfortunately, she didn't have clearance to check the listings of students themselves. Having not mastered the art of hacking computers (yet), all she could get a hold of was what the schools willingly put up on their websites.

Which begged the question of: If student names were kept secret for personal safety and/or privacy reasons, then why did they publicly announce the name of every individual who signed up for extra activities?

Had to be an ego thing between the schools.

Admittedly, she'd had better, and, yet, worse luck searching for the mysterious bluenette. Only one person had shown up; a _Satoshi Hiwatari_. But his biography had instantly claimed he was the son of Kei Hiwatari—_Mr_. _Head-honcho _of the police force himself. And it just wasn't possible that he was who she was looking for. For one thing, the Satoshi she knew had not been old enough to work for the Law. Unless...she had misjudged his age... But even then, it was laughable to think of Krad having anything to do with the Force. He was too much of a loose cannon, and too much into doing things his own dastardly way, even if he did chase after the most wanted and famous criminal in the country.

And if in all this time he'd been as close as her boss's best friend's son, then wouldn't she have known it by now? She hadn't met Kei and Satoshi personally, but some of the stories Carlos had told her should have given her a hint in that direction if it were so. Still, maybe she should pursue it on the off chance that it was true... It wasn't like she had any other options left.

Wait. What was she thinking? She was over. Done. She'd messed things up worse than an elephant trying out for ballet. Dark and Krad wanted nothing more to do with her.

Carlos watched, keeping silent for a time as Miranda focused more and more inwardly, lost to her own thoughts. Finally, he'd had enough. He gave her another little shake to remind her of his presence, and then removed his arm from around her. She straightened, staring over and blinking at him as she came back to her senses. He smiled at her before moving across the expansive office, passing large panes of glass that let in a fabulous view of the heart of Azumano. Carlos probably thought of himself as the city's theoretical heart; being the driving force that delivered the news people needed and most wanted to hear everyday.

He stopped in front of one bookcase of many that surrounded the room, reaching a light-brown hand the size of a shovel through an open showcase. If there was one thing he was more proud of than being the owner of BANTV, it was all the trinkets, knickknacks, and camouflaged stashes he had decorating every space he owned. He brought down two crystal flutes and a brand of wine, toting them back to the desk. Miranda's eyes widened, impressed by the gesture as he poured ample amounts of scarlet in both elegant glasses.

"Come and have a drink," he invited, waving his hand over the single lush chair before his desk. "Let's sit and unwind."

Miranda nodded, showing a hint of awkwardness as she took small steps to the seat. Was it really okay to drink here? As soon as she had sat, her boss picked up both full glasses and handed her one. He smiled his illuminating smile at her again, then tipped back his glass and drank it all down in one go. She chuckled.

"Aren't you suppose to sip and enjoy wine?" Her eyebrows rose along with the playful tones in her voice. He let out a satisfied rush of breath as he lowered his glass and looked at her, a sudden twinkle in his eyes. He leaned a hip against the front of the rightfully-dubbed 'mahogany monster' of his desk.

"Most people think so, but I'm not most people."

She chuckled again, taking a sip of her drink. It was robust and sweet, with only a hint of bitterness. Some of the tension finally eased out of her, and she smiled as she sank back into the brown office chair. Really, it was more like a fancy recliner, rather than a chair made with business intentions.

"Listen, Miranda," Carlos began, as he set his flute down with a small clink next to the biggest paperweight of all time. It looked like a fortuneteller's sight glass. "I believe in you. You did tell me that you ran into the angels one night and managed to speak with them for a while before they disappeared, but that isn't why I think you have the best chance of getting their story." His one-of-a-kind strangely brown and orange-tinted eyes glanced steadily into her almost-black ones, and he bent to grab her shoulder.

"There is something special about you whenever a topic comes up concerning those two. It's like a deep connection. I can't really explain it." He shook his head, lifting away and seeming embarrassed by the lack of proper explanation. "But I can _feel_ it. You'll be able to get a hold of those two, and win them over. There's no doubt of that, as long as you don't give up now."

Miranda lowered her head, obviously not as thoroughly convinced as her boss as she tucked a few strands of stray auburn back behind her ear.

"Come on, let's drink and be merry before I have to get serious this morning. You know I don't have long until I start getting demands for comments from the public for last night, and have to begin my inquiries for the truck-load of different reports from my other workers." He beamed, appearing proud rather than haggled with the thought of work, as she lifted up and eyed him with a small gleam of her usual attitude. She took another sip of wine. "Don't give up and I'm sure you'll find a way to work something out. Quit now and you'll never know and never have the opportunity again." He filled his flute a second time, and drank it as heartily as the first. She finally smiled, and it was a very reassuring expression.

"You're right," she said, tipping back her glass and finishing it, holding it out for a refill. "How did you become so wise?"

If Carlos, who had seemed more like family since her very first day of work (to the point where she nearly thought of him as an uncle), believed in her, then there was little doubt that she couldn't do it. After all, he had seen her potential to become a reporter before the thought had fully crossed her mind. And he had funded and supported her gallivants every step of the way.

"My dear," he smirked, as he filled her glass, "you have to remember that, no matter my young looks, I run a company. A successful company. I've been around the block a few times more than I'd like to count, and I know many things." The smooth skin of his mature, broad-squared features slipped into a grin. There wasn't even a dimple in his cheeks where he might have smiled over the years.

"You don't look a decade older than me," she confessed, once again sipping on her wine. "Actually, you look better than me. What is your secret?"

Amused laughter burst from him.

"My secret?" he repeated. "I don't have one. Other than the fact that when Kei and I were in school I used to cheat over his shoulder in math class."

"Carlos!" Miranda feigned scolding. Carlos only laughed harder, drinking down another flute of wine. His prominent cheeks were beginning to redden slightly.

"What?" he said, filling up the flute again. "I used to tag after Kei like a puppy. I learned a great deal from him, even if I did cheat in math. Bah! Who needs it? And just look at me now!" He grinned, throwing his arms wide, sloshing some wine over the edge of his glass and staining the carpet.

Miranda giggled, feeling considerable warmer on the inside and a lot more relaxed than she'd previously been. She'd miss talking with Carlos, but he'd been so busy recently.

"Isn't math an important subject to know when running your own business?"

"Rubbish! That's what secretaries are for!"

And so, for the next couple of hours, Miranda and her boss drank, talked, and laughed. Getting louder and louder after every glass of wine...

It was a good thing her new apartment was within walking distance.

**-.-**

Saturday.

It was Saturday.

Thank the good Lord! It was Saturday!

Daisuke awoke at the time he usually did on weekdays, but the silence of the alarm clock made him breathe a sigh of relief. He snuggled into his pillow more, stretching and curling again to get more comfortable. A twinge over his ribs made him tense and pause before cautiously moving again. Krad had got a good shot in, right before Dark had turned to shadow. The wound had closed the minute the kaito had reformed, but it was lucky that the puncture hadn't gone in too deep. He'd have had some very serious issues to deal with this morning if it had. As such, it only left a nasty three-inch long bruise on his inner side.

And that was why he was glad it was Saturday. There would be no heavy bookbag to heave around while he was so sore. He chuckled in happiness, then burrowed into his pillow once again, smiling as he got to sleep in for a few more luxurious hours.

"Daisuke!"

Emiko was so happy as he took a seat in the kitchen. She was always in a good mood after Dark pulled off a heist. Crimson eyes noted the new ring adorning her hand as she set a full plate down in front of him.

"My growing champion needs to eat! Is there anything you want specifically?" she asked, practically exploding with energy. She'd always been such a morning flower.

"No, thanks, Mom," he said, eying his plate with big eyes. She must have cooked nearly everything in the fridge.

"I could use some more," his grandpa said, lowering the paper from his face to look over at Emiko. She smiled at her son before trotting off the short distance to deal with Daiki.

**'This family eats like a bunch of horses... It's great!'** Dark suddenly popped into Daisuke's consciousness. Daisuke picked up his chopsticks and started chowing down, nearly used to the random times in which his other half would speak up.

'It's so wonder I'm hungry after that midnight snack you had,' the redhead link-spoke dryly.

**'After expending all that magic, that **_**was**_** only a snack.'**

'Two whole chickens, Dark? And half of a third? Not to mention all those steamed vegetables with rice smothered in butter sauce and white sauce?'

**'I could go for the rest of that chicken...'**

'Stop thinking about it. You're making me crave it and I actually want what I'm eating. Besides, don't you remember sneaking down and getting the rest a few hours later?'

**'Huh?'** the kaito said, surprised. **'I did...? Oh. Now I remember.'**

'You really forgot? You usually have such a good memory.'

**'I must have been on auto-pilot. Preservation instincts, if you will.'** Dark felt Daisuke's confusion and elaborated further: **'It's why I don't like using magic if I can avoid it. The human body just doesn't have the resources for it. Even taking in nourishment the only way a human can, it still isn't enough to replace what gets used. But by bingeing most is restored. You can't even notice anything different once you've rested.'**

Daisuke put down his sticks and chewed thoughtfully, getting a little worried.

**'Don't let it bother you. I won't do anything that will leave you crippled.'**

'But I am worried, Dark, about Satoshi. Krad uses an awful lot of magic nearly every time we face off against him. Is that why...' Daisuke paused, stomach starting to churn. Losing his appetite, he pushed the rest of his breakfast away. 'Is that why the Hikaris don't...live long lives?'

**'Daisuke...'**

This wasn't a topic the thief wanted to get on.

**'There's nothing you can do.'**

'I promised him I'd figure out how to help. Maybe if we tried restraining—'

Dark butt-in, **'—It takes all I've got just to snatch our objective and survive. No way.'** The phantom's tone was firm.

"Daisuke. Daisuke... Daisuke!"

His mom's sharp voice finally snapped him out of such a vexing conundrum, of which Satoshi was probably suffering worse now. And it would continue getting worse after every heist.

"Honey, are you all right?" Emiko didn't like the look of upset and sudden desperation on his face. Something had to be wrong for him to slide a plate over a third of the way full from himself, hence the reason she noticed a problem. "Is something the matter with your food?" she asked, hoping it was just that, but knowing good and well it was not. She laid down her utensils and got up from her chair, coming over to Daisuke's side.

She'd only ever seen his expression this bad when Risa had been kidnapped.

It's...nothing," Daisuke said hesitantly, shaking his head free of thought and wiping his face blank. Emiko had already shown that she wouldn't aid a Hikari, not unless she owed the Hikari something personally. Wasn't any use in asking for help.

But Satoshi and Krad had saved his and Dark's life before, back when things were starting to look up for them all. Wouldn't his mom feel a sense of debt and want to help?

No.

Whatever Krad did, she looked at as his and his Tamer's business, unless it affected her son, of course. And last night it had. Daisuke had gotten hurt, so Emiko would only be doubly against helping. His grandpa would second that notion, and his dad wouldn't be able to do much. He didn't even fully understand the Niwa link with Dark.

"Okay, but you can tell me anything, Daisuke."

Thank goodness his mom wasn't the prying type. He forced a fleeting smile across his face. It didn't seem to help much, but his mom went back to her seat.

"I do want to know that you're okay. Most times you're so oblivious to everything around you. It's as if you're off in your own world. I'm sometimes jealous of Dark; you two are worse than Siamese twins," she said jokingly.

"It's a curse," he said, trying for the same jovial tone and shrugging lightly. His mom stood rigidly from her chair. It slid back loudly and nearly fell over.

"What did you just call Dark?" she said angrily, her eyes narrowing dangerously at him. Daisuke gulped, his hair standing on end.

What had he done to earn a mother's fury?

Daisuke thought fast. "I-I wasn't calling Dark a curse! I just meant—"

"I will NOT have that kind of talk in this house, mister!"

"But I wasn't—"

"Be ready to thieve tonight. I've already sent out the warning notice." Emiko changed the discussion and threw him off track. He wanted to continue defending himself, although the attitude still in her voice made him doubt the safety of pressing the matter.

Wait. Thieve? Warning notice? But he'd just come back from one. It wasn't Summer yet, so why the sudden increase in stealing? That, he decided, was worth commenting on. Thieving was the last thing he wanted to do right now. He had to come up with a way to make it easier on Satoshi first. This was literally killing the other!

"Why do I have to steal so soon when I did a job last night?" Daisuke's voice started holding the same attitude his mom was presenting. Must be a trait that ran in the genes.

Emiko snorted hot air out of her nose like a raging bull.

"Because this Hikari art can't wait. It has become dangerously active. I'm giving you more than the usual spontaneous warning because Dark will need to plan well in advance for this one. This isn't exactly art in the normal sense that you're used to."

When had any of the art been normal by any means?

"Fine," he responded, looking disgruntled as he got up from the table. "I'm going to my room to get ready. I'll meet you and grandpa in the basement in one hour." He pushed his chair in and took his plate to the counter, then disappeared out the doorway, his posture speaking volumes of the words he didn't dare speak verbally.

Emiko huffed as she adjusted her chair back and sat down. Daiki chuckled as he turned a page of the paper. "What?" she asked moodily.

"He's finally getting a little more spunk. Could use some more of it, though."

"Spunk? More like a developing sense of cockiness. Did you hear what he said? He said 'curse', Papa. He called Dark a _curse_," she practically hissed.

"I expect that is Dark's influence, actually," Daiki said, quite calmly in contrast with his daughter. But she didn't appear to have heard him.

"Cockiness... Where could he have possibly gotten it from?"

Behind the newspaper, Daiki rolled his eyes.

"Dark isn't a _curse_. That's like African-Americans calling themselves _niggers_ in those rap songs of theirs, or Americans yelling _cracker_ at each other. It's distasteful and utterly disrespectful!"

**-.-**

Saturday.

It was Saturday.

Why did it have to be Saturday?

Satoshi had been awake for hours by the time the sun had come up, but he hadn't the strength to leave the bed for some time afterward. He wished it was a school day. Having some place to be would seriously help to motivate and get him going. Especially if it was to the place Krad usually left him alone at. So far, he'd had nothing but a sour and bitter attitude brooding in the back of his mind, along with the occasional grumbling.

And Krad wasn't the only thing grumbling.

His stomach was driving him insane. It kept twisting on itself and hurting every time it made its pathetic noise. Here recently it would do that—usually in the mornings—even though it was used to not having breakfast. But the sensation wasn't like normal hunger. Truth be told, he wasn't sure what it could be labeled as, or what was really causing it.

It became so much of a problem that he was willing to eat something to see if it helped. He ducked his head into the refrigerator for a boiled egg or two. But what little food he'd kept around the house had mysteriously vanished.

Odd.

This, too, had been happening every so often. And every time it did, he investigated to see if he could find anything else missing, or maybe a trace of a burglary attempt.

So far his investigations had turned up zilch. No windows were cracked open or left unlocked, the security system on his door was impossible to open without the proper measures; unless the phantom thief pried and hacked them, but even he would have a difficult time with the unique models. The door itself was intact and not damaged from any forcefulness, and his alarm system was at the pinnacle of technological advances, very clearly armed, and definitely functioning properly. A simple test-check showed that much. He took his finger out of his ear as he closed back the device's panel.

Whatever was happening to his food, it wasn't a person behind it. Nor was it some kind of animal. If there was so much as a stray bug in his apartment then the landlord knew she'd get her head chewed off. Satoshi would not tolerate having to put up with any more pests in his life.

_Maybe it _is_ a person behind this, just not an outsider,_ Satoshi thought. He didn't want to contemplate the possibility of Krad taking hold of him during what little time he allowed his body to rest, but it seemed that might very well be the case. Which is why it was good that he'd thought ahead and never kept much food.

He would never allow Krad to be at full strength. Never.

Deciding it was better to ignore his seriously aching gut (especially if Krad had already fed), Satoshi gathered his laptop and began writing the events of Dark's latest escapade. It was hard to focus on the report after his hands had begun shaking, and he kept yawning time and time again, feeling as if he was exhaling dust each time. What a weird sensation. He could even open his mouth and it would feel as if dust was stirring, come to pour out of it. Nothing was really coming out though, so he ignored this as well, and soon was wholly focused on putting words into existence on the screen.

At least in this one thing he could create and not bear a curse into the world.

The sun was fairly high by the time he finished. It was then he noticed his phone vibrating enthusiastically across the coffee table. He caught it as it fell off the edge, hurrying to answer, not even checking who was calling him.

"Hello?" he said, just as he sent in his report to HQ.

"_Satoshi. I expect you to be more diligent in answering your phone calls,_" his father spoke with poorly disguised annoyance. "_I've been trying to get a hold of you for an hour. Dark has sent in another warning letter. I think you'll take special interest in this one._"

Dread replaced the barely restrained smirk at having peeved his father. "Special interest" usually pertained to Krad's sensibilities. Satoshi wasn't ready for another round of fighting. Not this soon. Of course, he didn't have a choice in the matter. His mind began turning onto measures he'd yet to try in capturing the elusive thief.

"Which is it this time?" he forced his tone flat, even though Krad perking up had his heart racing in high gear.

"_It's a special something that was placed in the middle of Dawn's Edge Park. Do __you remember what is there? No? The monument erected to hold it is meant to show everyone that which inspired the Cultural Revolution. Know what I'm talking about now?_" Kei asked gleefully as Satoshi gave a pained grunt, fighting as his eyes burned to a fierce molten gold. The cell phone gave a warning crack. Fingers spasmed and loosened their hold, nearly dropping the phone before he could control the right amount of pressure again.

"I know what you are talking about. What time is on the letter?" The voice was his, but the words were not. Krad was mostly overpowering him. Satoshi closed his eyes and clinched his teeth, trying to hold on against the tide of anger that was swelling and threatening to drown him alive.

"_He's barely waiting until nightfall. The appointed time given is seven o'clock sharp. I want you here by five to add what you will to procedures. Don't be late._" With that, his father hung up.

Satoshi growled, the inhuman sound making the hair on the back of his own neck stand on end. And then he was standing, his laptop dropping to the floor, forgotten, as he threw the cell phone against a wall. It shattered violently. Sweating and panting, he bent over, placing a hand to his throbbing heart and trying desperately to get a grip on himself.

But this wasn't him. This wasn't his rage. And Krad was having none of being soothed. The damn kaito was coming to claim the Kit. _His_ kit. The tools more than three Hikaris had used to create beloved and destructive arts. Rare, indeed, as an artist almost never used another's crafts. At least not in the family of the Hikari, who all had individual interests, and therefore usually preferred to handcraft their own tools to fit what they so desired. As such, this kit—_his _kit—was infused with more power and emotion than many of the most fascinating arts they'd been used to create.

It had the most abundant and pure Hikari energy stored into it, made only stronger after they'd been place for the public to view. Krad remembered their feel in his hands as if it were only yesterday. All the Hikaris and their hopes and dreams, stemming from his fingers and their minds as he'd sculpted and painted with those wondrous tools.

It was beauty beyond compare. Priceless. What he worked so hard for reincarnation after reincarnation—those recordings of parts of his life throughout the ages, watching and observing and growing as the times continued to change.

And now a big piece of that was about to be taken? And no doubt sealed. Destroyed?

All those years and efforts lost and wasted.

No.

Hell no! Not this time.

"Not this time!" Krad raged, flexing his newly released wings and storming through room to room of the apartment. His cloak swished fast at every turn as he paced.

"Mousy will not win this time! I vow it!"

Krad spent over a hour envisioning gruesome deaths for Dark, and only then did he finally start calming down enough to formulate a counterattack. The golden-blond noted sadly that there wasn't much else he could personally do outside from the norm. Obviously that was not working, although Satoshi was already starting to fall apart from use.

That left Krad with his last resort, which never really had been a true option: The police.

_They will never catch him,_ Krad thought, irritated beyond measure at their incompetence. _And I might not either,_ Krad was forced to concede as his temper suddenly fled and was replaced by a dreadful lack of energy. He hunched over the sink in shock, shaking like a newborn lamb. Slowly he plucked off his gloves, then splashed cool water on his heated and sweaty features. His dripping reflection in the mirror looked beyond pale, and severely strained.

_Satoshi won't last much longer,_ Krad worried. The devilish angel hadn't lied when he'd called the boy his everything. Satoshi was the last of the Hikaris. There were no younger males left to pass on his genes for him, and no foolish women who had no real inkling of what they were letting happen when they bedded a lover.

Krad might not get passed on this time around. It was a scary thought, and it stilled him, coating everything inside with a thick layer of ice.

Krad hated the weakness and fear reflected back at him and roared in frustration. He broke the mirror an instant later, cursing Satoshi as his hand came away bloodied and pierced.

He needed to get his thoughts back on what mattered. Once again, the wilting options left the police as the strongest effort. How pitiful, even after Kei had discovered him and they'd soon worked out a bargain. Which hadn't been all that difficult. He'd easily talked the father into betraying his adopted son—the man's soul already tainted by some of the arts his Tamer had unwittingly brought into creation.

_ "I need you and your policemen to be strong and ready. Satoshi has already proven to be formidable, and unfortunately he is managing to screw a few too many operations up. I need time to break him. I expect you will make that time."_

_ "Yes, under one small condition," _Kei had dared say, as if in a real position to make such dangerous demands. But Krad had needed a willing player with the presenting trouble, and Kei knew it. The man had been no longer satisfied with just keeping the dormant art and their useless sleeping powers. Having someone in allegiance with the same agenda was indefinitely better than one held against their will on a leash, so Krad had immediately used the greed to his favor.

_ "You can have a share of their powers, so long as you keep them from being stolen. The more that arrogant thief makes away with, the more you lose." _

Krad had then given the man valuable Hikari knowledge, allowing the cretin to tap into powers and magics, giving him the ability to even control some of the lesser artworks. 

Admittedly, when he'd made this bargain he'd thought Kei was better at organizing and thwarting than he actually was. Kei and his lackeys, though human, should have been able to interfere more than they had. But, no, nothing was working. Dark was getting away again and again, his greedy arms full of invaluable treasures. And what was worse was it had become nothing more than a game to the despicable kaito. He didn't even want the arts anymore; he just gave them to the atrocious Niwas.

Would that be the destined future? Was everything Hikari-made to become the Niwas? He howled, unable to stand the thought. It couldn't be let to happen. It couldn't unfold in this way. Not after all these centuries.

Those works had been made for the public to cultivate with their ignorant adoration. And that would be their destiny, even if it meant his own ultimately ending.

The haunting cry of a quivering note filled the air, full of sadness and worry. It faded as Molten flew from wherever she'd been in the apartment to land at the bathroom's threshold. Her wingspan was too big to allow her to simply swoop inside. Instead, the half-phoenix walked in behind him, looking as if a beautiful dancer waltzing as she spun with her long tail to hop onto the sink. She had gotten tall. Her claws clinked against the ceramic bowl as she held onto it and bent to nuzzle across Krad's cheek. She then took to preening his long bang.

He reached out the hand that wasn't bloodied to stroke her white-feathered back. She cooed, and her feathers turned warm, seeming to glow faintly, the red-orange fires forever present within her primaries swirling faster. The empty weakness hollowing his chest filled some, and he felt a little stronger and a little clearer-minded.

"Thank you," he said, smiling and meaning it, only able to be so openly honest when around other artworks. And even then it took special ones not to bring out his sadistic side. "Do you want to fly with me tonight?"

Molten stared back at him, and in her blue-green gaze Krad saw the answer.

"Good. Maybe you can help me."

**-.-**

The phone rang, calling her away from the mama bird she watched playing in the birdbath out in her small but quaint backyard. Miranda was stunned to hear her boss so soon after leaving his office. She was usually left on her own for days at a time to come up with her stunts and to finish her reports. She was still tipsy for Pete's sake! She nearly dropped the phone as he told her of Dark's warning notice. There was only a few precious hours to come up with a plan of action.

"I can't...face them yet..."

But she had to. She had to get a message across to them, and somehow get them to give her just a few minutes of their time.

But how? What could she do?

"_Miranda, are you still there?_" Carlos asked, his voice sounding far away as the phone dangled loosely from its cord in her hand. She hurriedly brought the device back to her ear.

"Yeah."

"_I want you at the park and in a great spot to observe well before the showdown. I don't expect more than the standard report since you don't have much time to prepare. But get it in gear, girl! Because next time I want you ready for anything! You can do it!_" The phone clicked as he hung up.

"Right, boss..." she said to the muted dial tone. A horde of butterflies unleashed a flurry inside her stomach.

Back in his office, Carlos rummaged in a file cabinet, pulling out a simple folder.

"So you know what to do?" he inquired the fourteen-year old sinking into the huge cushions of the chair.

"Of course, sir!" Takeshi Saehara piped up with intense excitement, his hands gripping his brand-new camera with white knuckles. He was finally getting his big chance to become a famous reporter. And what better topic to focus on than his and the town's personal favorite?

"I was mighty impressed with that photo you gave for the paper back at the end of Spring, even if we couldn't make out what it was that the white one, Krad, as we now know, was holding. And then there were those few you turned in early this morning. You have real potential, son. I could use your talents, as I'm sure you could use more than pennies for your efforts."

Carlos selected a sheet of paper from the folder, then returned it to the cabinet, keeping the chosen paper in his hand.

"I'll take the best shots of anyone out there, sir! And this baby you gave me," he lifted up the camera, "will take crystal-clear images, no matter how dark it is."

"Good, good." Carlos walked over to Takeshi, casually pressing up against the side of the chair and lowering the paper in his hand so the boy could read it. Like expected, Takeshi's eyes grew wide.

"S-sir?" Takeshi looked up at him hesitantly.

"I'll let you fill this out if you get me some really _interesting_ shots." Carlos jiggled the paper some and Takeshi's eyes focused back to it in wonder.

"But I'm still in school. I can't officially work yet," he said, almost breathlessly.

"An exception will be made. Just leave that to me. And don't forget to watch Miranda out there. I want you to keep a close eye on her. Just...see what you can learn. But don't disturb her. She's working too, so keep your distance. I'm sure you understand how bad it is to distract someone when they're tediously waiting for that one great moment."

"I'm not a novice!" Takeshi quipped.

"I didn't think you were. Not with your impressive skill level," Carlos praised, scrubbing a hand over Takeshi's short black hair. Takeshi beamed, laughing as he threw off Carlos' heavy hand. He jumped out of the chair. It was as if the thing had spit him out.

"I'll be back asap with my findings!"

He ran for the door, eager to get to work, but Carlos halted him.

"That won't be necessary, Takeshi. I'll meet you at your school Monday and treat you to lunch. You can give me everything then."

"Huh?" Takeshi looked back in shock, his hand pausing over the door handle. "You will come by my school? What will everyone say to that?" he wondered out loud in delight, his eyes unfocusing as he imagined fellow peers gawking. It wasn't everyday the Head of News decided to appear. For him, no less. They'd all finally recognize his talent as a true reporter and not someone concocting meaningless drabble.

His demeanor suddenly changed to one of question as he focused back. "But by then the event will be a day and a half old. And you won't be able to get anything I find out until it's over two days old."

Carlos had to hand it to the kid, he had his head in the game.

"That's why I want you to give me something interesting to work with. It will be released after the other reports. Don't tell me you don't know the secret of keeping a few happenings under wraps in order to build up hype in-between event downtimes?"

Takeshi turned red. "I told you, I'm not a novice! It's just that my findings are important, too, so they deserve to get out there where the public can see them in good time."

"Don't worry, your pictures will be invaluable, so long as you get the right shot. But this expedition is mostly allowed to give you time to watch and gain a bit of professional experience. Remember, watch _every_ element out there at all times. Don't let anything slip by your notice. You need that one great shot to move on forward from here."

"Right..." Takeshi raised an eyebrow before turning the handle and bolting out the office. He ran past the many cubicles of fluttering staff and zoomed round a corner. The noise from copiers and printers sailed through the air like wonderful music. He dodged the secretary's desk and threw open the glass doors to the outside, running along the road and passing under a cobblestone bridge. There in the shadow of it he stopped to look back at the window of the office he'd just left, letting realization sink in.

It was obvious that Mr. Trinningham wanted him to tag Miranda. He wasn't an oblivious kid. Takeshi shrugged and grinned, facing back to continue running home. His fingers sought out the new camera jerking around his neck; a wonderful DNV900HD. It didn't matter to him if the reporter woman was slacking on the job and he had to fill in for her. It just left him room to prove himself and get the best shot ever.

He already had experience. He just needed a little luck, then it was on to the start of a prosperous career.

His dream would come to fruition tonight. He could hardly wait. 

**-****)*(****-**

**A/N:**

**Two things need to be said for this chapter. **

**In "PFL" Dark told Miranda about Satoshi being the commander of the police and she called dibs. Just to let you know, that was part of Krad's hallucination. In case it's not clear to a few, his hallucinations began once he threw Miranda (that's when the Angel Dust fell out of her pocket), and ended with the chapter.**

**BANTV is something I came up with. If there is a network with this acronym, then I don't know of it. Not trying to steal a name here; I like to be original.**

**Now, don't nobody hate on Krad here. The obvious solutions to his problem are...how should I say this? Obvious. **

**1) Go to the store and get food.**

**2) Find a woman and get laid.**

**Like I said, don't hate him because he's oblivious to anything that includes socializing. He's devious where it matters. And so darn pretty. XD**

**Though I'm actually glad that he doesn't try and go find a woman to...solve his problems. It is Satoshi's body, after all. And, although there will be some lovey stuffs later, I'm not going to make any Mary Sue situations. Just...no. I'm working hard to keep everyone IC. It's not easy, you know! Centuries old evil and exaggerated comedy is hard to mesh! **

**Anyway, I'm excited about my newest OC. I wonder what's thought of him. He's kind of a mystery right now. Oh, and I guess this chapter doesn't have a lot in the way of comedy. Bummer. We need those drugs! XD**

**O.O Oh dear. I'm addicted to fictional drugs. Is that as bad as doing the real thing? Oh my...I just don't know.**


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own any of Lady Gaga's songs. Let this disclaimer be a slight indicator of the craziness just beginning to unfold.

**A/N:**** Longest chapter ever! But the night's action doesn't end here. Finally meet Dee Dee! And beware of rookies... I know that makes no sense now, but it's like a running theme in this chapter. And, yes, the artwork coming up is based, not only on an animal, but on a tattoo gun. Imagine all the chaos a Hikari could do with one of those!**

**May you readers enjoy! And, if you don't mind, drop a review! Also, I'd love an opinion on what Dee Dee's gender should be. Or should it even have one? I need answers! Whoever doesn't have an opinion is a rotten dragon egg! **

* Hebi no Hōseki translates to Snake Jewel. Love to the hebis! (It's my Zodiac sign.)

**-****)*(****-**

"'April showers bring May flowers.' If I hear that one more time I'm going to hit someone," Dark said, peering from a gutter between sidewalk and asphalt—his shoulders getting the worst of the wet runoff as water practically poured in. It streamed between the uneven grooves of the street stretched before him, making the road look like a moving black river in the night. Rain started coming down harder, fiercer, becoming a constantly falling veil that rapped against the land and pavement.

Still far from the center where the target display rested, Dark was also far from the crowd of police protecting the item. Dozens upon dozens of police cars spanned from the center in spontaneous locations and angles, as if trying to be walls to a maze. Police marched back and forth in their large, black raincoats; flashlights weaving purposefully through the thick raindrops. Dark would have to move in closer very cautiously if he wanted to so much as glimpse the artifact. Or possibly catch some snippets of conversation. Luck might be on his side and he'd find out about a few of the undoubtedly present traps. Though he doubted they'd had time to setup anything too extreme. It wouldn't be anything he hadn't faced before, at the very least.

But, drat, the splashing rain was unpleasant…and cold…and noisy. Forget overhearing anything, then. He'd just have to use his eyes and wits to sniff out potential nastiness.

Though his face (and just about every other part of his body) was getting thoroughly drenched from the rebounding rain, Dark forced himself to watch the scene just a little bit longer. A bad feeling concerning the mission unraveled in the pit of his gut. Something was off tonight, and it itched at him. Thieving wasn't so fun when premonitions nipped at your heels. It made him jumpy.

Speaking of jumpy... "Ut!" Dark dodged another piece of debris that floated down the drain.

** 'Why do people pollute when there are trashcans everywhere?' **Daisuke complained, ever the Eco enthusiast. **'That's the fifth discarded wrapper in so many minutes.'**

"Hold it," Dark said enthusiastically, making a grab for whatever it was before it touched the muck under their feet.

**'Huh?'**

Gloved hands closed around the colored foil just in time and brought it back up. It was a small pack of unopened chips.

"Yummy. Now the question is, do I dare?" He grinned, squeezing the bag lightly to check for any holes in the packaging.

**'Don't you dare!'** Daisuke said, incensed. **'You have no idea where that's been!'**

"I've had to eat worse things in harsher times." The kaito shrugged, still gripping the bag. "It's not every day a ration comes floating down your hidey-hole."

**'This is not a life or death situation of needing food! Besides, that is junk food. It's not good for you at all.'**

"Wrong. It's good for the taste buds."

Daisuke sputtered, unable to come up with a defense to deny that.

"Relax. With your high metabolism you'll cut through any fat. Pfft. You're such a girl."

Inside, Daisuke chewed on his lips, highly pissed and slightly hurt at the comment. Dark rolled his eyes and dropped the bag of chips into the abyss. Daisuke was such an innocent and good kid, but damn if he didn't reach his "pickable" limit too fast to be a good sport.

"I was just teasing, Daisuke. You know eating right before a performance is bad," Dark said, carefully avoiding taking back the girly comment as they focused back to the work at hand. Daisuke didn't seem to notice. "Have you spotted the weak-link yet?"

**'Yeah. They've covered the area pretty well, but the seven guards on the right-hand most side aren't quite in sync with the rest of this section's group. It's almost like they've got their focus on something extra near them.'**

"That would be where a trap undoubtedly is. They're doing badly at their job while keeping their eyes peeled to see if I'm going to spring it. Maybe they're hoping for an easy victory."

**'Oh! Then that means they're not the weakest link because of the trap so near them.'**

"Shame on you, Daisuke. Watch the formation pattern and where the attention flows to and from. They are definitely the weakest link. And we can exploit it and get closer to scrutinize more of the surrounding area. The police are so wide-spread this time that we are going to need to scope out from a few more places just to get a general idea of the whole. We need to thoroughly seek out all of our possible escape routes so we don't have to call in a still-tired With."

At the spoken acknowledgement, Dark felt Daisuke's nervousness begin increasing by watts. This wasn't anything new; it always happened in face of a large contemporaneous situation. The boy was learning, though, as he kept his cool, tramping down on his growing fears and asking a question:

**'But if the right side is where a trap is, how can it be the weak-link we need?'**

The kid had come a long way since his first heist, and that was little less than a year ago, but he still needed to learn to keep sharp and deduce the odds instead of letting emotions from it blind him.

"Just look. With their progression I have time to locate and disarm the trap without too much trouble, so long as I come in from the North side. It's nothing more than a simple game of Minesweeper—follow the clues until you're right up on it, assess, then deactivate. With their abundance of faith in the then-unarmed trap they'll just keep practically waiting for the dud to be triggered, and their dreadfully lacking sense of alert will be easy as a breeze to sneak through. Because to them the traps can never fail, be tampered with, and are one-hundred percent foolproof," Dark finished with criticizing sarcasm.

**'Oh...'**

Dark sighed. Daisuke was doing it again; zoning out while letting his fear tangle him up. This profession required one to be absolutely focused and ready to make a move, or even a major plan change, in the turn of a second. The slightest hesitation or instant of being unsure of how to proceed could cost. You _had_ to be ready for anything to be thrown your way, and paying close attention was your main key to staying a step ahead.

Dark sighed again. He wouldn't be available to Daisuke forever. And the kid had to be ready to pick up the torch in the thief's absence. And soon, because with the way things were beginning to go with Daisuke and Riku, Dark didn't have a whole lot of time left.

The kaito ignored the empty ping that shot through his chest and the spike of...jealousy. He was happy for his Tamer and chosen girl. Dark had gotten time for freedom, and now it was nearing time for dormancy. That was all there was to it.

Claws pattered close on the sidewalk above.

"_Shit_!" Dark hissed, angry for doing the very thing Daisuke had and letting attention slip. Dark backed away from the opening, his boots lightly squishing in the mess below as he listened from inside the cramped tunnel. The police couldn't have brought in a K9 unit; there'd been no evidence as of yet suggesting it, anyway, so the animal should just pass right on by, especially since no thuds from boots accompanied it, indicating a human companion. But if it wasn't a normal animal of some sort...then he was trapped. The drainage tunnels offered far too little space to escape fast pursuit from something physically smaller and faster. Not unless he shadowed. But Dark didn't want to tap into powerful magic again so soon. That needed to be avoided at all cost.

He couldn't be as free with the power as he'd been at Miranda's so many months ago. Dark still hadn't the nerve to tell Daisuke the affect of what all that expenditure would have for the kid in later years. It wouldn't leave him crippled, though. The kaito wouldn't have allowed that.

All was quiet, aside from the rain and the almost-steady flow of water pouring in. Senses stretched taut, Dark could _feel_ whatever it was still up there, even if he couldn't tell what it was. And it knew where _he_ was, because it wasn't moving—it was standing still, waiting on the thief to make the first move. Inside, Daisuke shivered with trepidation. The redhead didn't feel safe even with the sturdy (and grimy) concrete close between him and an unknown. Witnessing dangerous magic demolish the dense stuff could do that to a person.

The opening before him revealed a large view of the night and its abundant rain. The gap seemed to get larger and larger, leaving the impression of being dreadfully exposed and allowing a clear path in which to seek him out.

'Calm down,' Dark warned, reverting to link-speak in order to keep quiet. 'Expand your senses and search the thing out. Discover more about it.'

Daisuke sat huddled within a corner of their mind. It was easier to get away from fear when Dark was out handling trouble and he didn't feel like he was in direct contact with the world. It also kept him from distracting his other self during touchy predicaments. But he couldn't sit back on the sidelines and be such a baby forever. Besides, getting the go-ahead to use magic was simply too tempting to pass up.

Separating anxiety from determination, Daisuke unfurled within, and Dark tipped his head back, relaxing in easy compliance, allowing Daisuke to use every sense he possessed to search above them and find out more about the unknown. Energy flowed, barely teasing the air as it moved outward. Meanwhile, Dark kept alert, ready to go on the defensive if whatever it was decided to attack in some way. During this, Dark wondered (not for the first time) if the grace in which Daisuke used his power was something more than just a natural knack for the talent.

Less than ten seconds later, Daisuke spoke, relief heavily apparent within his mental voice, **'It's not an artwork; it doesn't resonate with the energy.'**

'You used more of your own energy than mine, though,' the thief stated.

**'W-what? How can there be two different energies within the same body? Wait...does that mean it **_**could**_** be an artwork, then?'**

Dark sighed. Daisuke was back to square-zero and forgetting to rationalize. Dark's energy had been present even if it hadn't been at an equal ratio, so if whatever it was had been an artwork, it would have still resonated with the part that was purely his.

'Think of energy as a wave. Therefore two different ways of handling that energy, namely personalities, mean two different wave frequencies, though one main energy source. The frequency is also called a signature, and it's as unique to every individual as a set of fingerprints. Course, I am you, and you can become me, so... Never mind, we don't have time; more on that later. The present problem above is not an artwork. But it _is_ stubbornly curious about us.' At this, Dark growled loudly, the deep sound bouncing back and forth in a rumbling echo down the drainage tunnel. He backed up the threat with a small flare of aura. From the top of the concrete came a pathetic whine. Animals were in tune to many things humans could never be, and it felt the power that was well beyond itself.

**'Dark, it's a dog! A little dog!' **

Dark burst out laughing. Of all the things that could have held them up, it was just some scared little mutt soaked from the rain.

At the sound of laughter the little dog stuck its muzzle into the drain, sniffing happily. Daisuke, as Dark, moved closer and reached out to let it sniff his fingers, which it enthusiastically did before being petted. Daisuke reached up to pet the scruffy terrier behind its ears and along its thin neck and back. He could swear he'd seen this dog around somewhere before as the patterns on its head became visible while it tried to cram down into the drain to lick him. The runoff of water from the road flooded over the dog and somewhat over Daisuke, but it didn't seem to care. It was too excited at having a friend to worry about the impossibility of becoming more wet.

Suddenly, the dog sniffed too hard in its excitement and gathered water into its sinuses. It sneezed. Right on Daisuke, or rather, right on Dark. The kaito jolted back.

"Gross!" he yelped, suddenly wanting to roll in a puddle. Course, it wouldn't be much cleaner.

**'Let's go home and get a shower.'** Daisuke quivered. **'That was a full-on face hit.' **It was impossible to tell what was water and what was something worse as it ran down his face and neck. It all felt incredibly nasty.

"Can't—it's too close to appointment time. The rain outside will have to do."

Above, the dog lapped its muzzle and began sniffing down the drain happily again. Dark bent down, searching the muck under his feet for something. Finding it, he picked it up and opened the dirty bag. "Here," he said, handing it to the dog. "Now go away, Fido." The scruffy terrier, obviously a bony stray, kindly took the bag and leaped down in front of the opening. It turned and looked the phantom thief in the eye, as if saying, _I'll remember you_. It took off, leaving sight to find a dry place to dine on its goodies.

**-.-**

"The time on the warning notice is drawing near. It is a given that the Phantom Thief is doing the same. I want no more excuses. He is to be caught and dealt with this night," Satoshi said loudly, over the barrage of rain.

"Yes, sir," the four guards encircling the bricked monument said in unison, standing straight against the watery assault. Satoshi scrutinized every one of them through the streaming raindrops as he circled the wet grounds of the park's center.

The park itself was approximately thirty acres, reaching over half a mile in either direction from where they stood; as it was in the form of a perfect square. That was a lot of distance for the thief to cross, but it also gave plenty of space to hide one lone figure if they all weren't watchful enough. Sparse trees, spots of shrubs, fountains, and slabs of other monuments gave one plenty of cover when added together. And they weren't dealing with an average thief by far... But none of this dropped confidence in success like the guards themselves did. Nearly every person on-duty needed whatever they sought just about handed to them. Most were immature rookies, with either little or no field experience. If he didn't know any better, he would suspect his father purposely setting him up to fail.

Satoshi looked at them with judgment and scorn, revealing a great deal of his displeasure. A few lost their zeal from looking into his searing eyes, their shoulders hunching some. The intense, almost-hostile blue gaze finally fell onto the thick crystal case in which the bricks behind them had been protectively built around. Satoshi stepped through their loose circle and up to it. The entire construction was just a little taller than him. He ran a finger across the dripping base of thick crystal, feeling magic respond—welcoming him. Satoshi jerked back his hand as if electrocuted, cold sweat mixing unnoticeably with the rain running over his brow.

He turned, walking away quicker than he'd approached the routine checkpoint, leaving the guards unceremoniously.

"Is something off about the commander tonight?" one of the men asked, when Satoshi's form disappeared behind the first surrounding wall of police cars.

"He does seem angry. I hear the chief has come down hard on him recently."

A puddle splashed lightly and grass squished as someone rearranged his stance.

"That's a far cry different than all the usual vacations forced on him."

"Whatever the matter is, I think he could use a lesson in humility."

"Yeah," one of the others agreed.

"There are way too many of us here for the thief to sneak through tonight. The commander needs to tone down."

"Hey, does anyone else hear something?"

The guards looked around, trying to pinpoint the minuscule sound amongst the rush of falling water. It was growing louder. Was that _pop music_?

Meanwhile, Satoshi stopped walking only when well out of sight from the menagerie of police, allowing his bandaged hand to become wet as he let it slip past the long sleeve of his black jacket. A large embroidered cross stretched across the back of his attire, instead of a police insignia; providing distance from the police should a civilian sneak too close and somehow spot him. It's why he never wore a uniform. Not many townspeople knew of his rank within the Force, and he'd like to keep it that way to avoid rumors and any legal drama that might come with it because of his age. Thankfully, whenever he'd been on the field, his team kept most of the Press away, even if not the thief they were trying for.

Satoshi used his bandaged hand to lean against the back of a bolted-down, metal bench. His other hand suddenly leaped to his chest, fingers gathering the fabric over his heart into a tight bundle as he hunched over gasping for air. The effort was strained.

"Stop, Krad." Satoshi shuddered as the inner entity began to twist and turn, boiling as he sensed Dark nearing. It was unmistakable. The thief's signature was like pungent spoor, and unaffected by the pouring rain. He was a hound fixing to give chase. All the tension and fury winding and clashing made it difficult to concentrate and keep his head clear.

Clear from the demonic angel, that is.

And that damned artwork hadn't helped any as it had called to his other self.

"Dammit!" He straightened, and then swung, hitting the metal bench with his healing fist, no matter the pain it caused. The slow throbbing burn helped to keep just a little more focus on himself.

_Why did my ancestors have to create these abominations?_

Just trying to suppress this one had made him sick, meaning it was exceptionally powerful.

Or that he was weakening down faster than he thought...

With a frustrated growl he thrust his damaged hand against the bench again, cringing as the force of it bit and bore at the wounds. Lifting it, Satoshi was sad to see blood spreading under the moist white cloth. Not long ago such simple cuts and shallow piercings would have been light scars by now thanks to the increased healing rate the magic he shelled gave. It was just more evidence pointing to the fact that his time was nearing.

_Not yet. Not yet! I still haven't— _

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud crack. Men hollered from the direction of the park's center. Satoshi twisted around fast, reaching under his jacket and snatching the walkie-talkie off the back of his hip as he sprinted back toward the sea of police.

"Unit Two and Unit Fifteen, close in on the monument! All other Units, hold your position! We don't know if this is merely a diversion from the Phantom Thief! Increase alert level to three!" _Though why would he attempt a diversion near his target? It doesn't make sense. Something else is going on here._

A noise of confirmation came through the speaker, as well as grumbling from Sergeant Saehara; which he ignored.

Water fell from the starless sky, beating across his shoulders and down his back, thrumming against the heavy material of his jacket and seeming to add to the gathered weight of it. Other countless droplets shined passed a multitude of car headlights and police flashlights. Puddles splashed as he managed to keep from sliding on patches of slippery grass and bumping into fellow officers. But with the ruined crystal of the monument just coming into plain sight, what he saw momentarily stunned him. Inside his chest a sliver a humor shivered through, indicating Krad laughing silently. But the direness of the situation overrode any blatant form of comedy to the bluenette.

Satoshi twitched, noticing he still clutched the walkie-talkie in his hand. He slammed the button down and brought it back to his face. "UNITS TWO AND FIFTEEN, ABANDON LAST ORDER AND RETURN TO YOUR POSITIONS!"

The Units were closer to the monument than him and starting to spread out to surround it, but at their angle they still had a chance to turn around before being sighted. The cursed work wasn't actually doing any harm yet, but if it felt threatened then that would soon change. Sergeant Saehara once again grumbled from the speaker, questioning about the sudden change of command. Satoshi didn't have the time to explain it even if he somehow could.

The artwork had spotted him, and was heading straight for him.

"I _hate_ my ancestors!" Satoshi hissed, as he doubled back, hoping to lead the stray artwork past as few people as possible. But he knew the situation was going to turn into total chaos within minutes. How could it not after the evidence of what he'd just seen?

Poor Unit One at having been the unfortunate squad to have guarded the monument. How many more would be affected by the whims of the artwork?

**-****-.-**

Dark stood high up in the middle of a thick cluster of branches, one hand propped against the wide tree trunk to stabilize him. He cursed silently as he watched tension increase within the horde of police gathered below. It was like watching a current spread beneath his feet.

** 'The police are becoming more alert. What happened? This isn't good; we're right in the middle of them!'**

'You love stating the obvious.'

**'Dark, now is not the time to be sarcastic. We need to find out what's going on ****without getting spotted.'**

'Again, that's obvious. Squirrels can pause long enough to rationalize that much.'

Daisuke growled.

'Look, you keep being Mr. Obvious, and I'll keep being Mr. Sarcastic. That's just the way it works.'

**'Dark, would you just stay focused!'**

'You're one to preach. I am _always_ focused.'

Daisuke was about to retort when a noise drifted on the outer edges of their hearing. The inner redhead settled down and Dark perked his ears, gazing far ahead, right at the center of the park. He could just make out figures running all about and, from where they were standing, the short heap of bricks that contained his target.

Something was very wrong.

'It's music.'

**'Now who's being obvious?'** The childish admission was followed by a snort.

'Quiet!' Dark chastised.

**'Oh, so you're the only one who can be sarcastic?'** said Daisuke, not put off in the least.

'You're breaking concentration!' the kaito warned. 'When I'm sarcastic I'm still completely focused! You're not!'

**'Oh. Sorry...'**

'I wonder if some idiot cop left his car radio on.'

**'It has to be blasting if we're hearing it from such a distance.'**

'You have just gone from being Mr. Obvious to Captain Obvious.'

Once again, Daisuke's retort was cut short as the situation took precedence. A spotlight flashed on, illuminating a good portion of the field and clearly highlighting two figures that stood in the middle of the blinding beam. They scrambled on top of the target monument, regardless of the falling element posing a slipping hazard, and the spotlight followed them. The whispers of music suddenly pounded loud enough to suggest a rock concert, and Dark could have sworn the rain in the air rippled outward from the force of it. He winced as he and Daisuke were more than able to catch the lyrics. The two cops on the monument began dancing provocatively to the beat and singing raucously. Right in front of the entire crowd that was full of their peers and superiors.

Even so, before he became wholly stupefied, Dark noticed a twisted aura flare within the insanely loud music.

The cursed work had awoken.

_Dance, dance, just, j-j-just dance_

_Wish I could shut my playboy mouth, oh oh oh-oh_

Daisuke was speechless, and, for once, so was Dark. One of the spell-bound officers used his walkie-talkie as a microphone, just about kissing it from the looks of it. This wasn't a trap, but it was almost better than one as Dark nearly fell out of the tree from fainting. Course, that was because he was holding his breath so he wouldn't laugh out loud.

The cops surrounding began rioting in confusion at their weird-acting partners. It was quickly becoming utter chaos as no one could figure how music was blaring from everywhere at once and seeming to bear down abnormally, as if physically squeezing. The two in the spotlight refused to stop dancing, even with physical force coming into the equation.

_How'd I turn my shirt inside out? Inside outright_

_Control your poison babe, roses have thorns they say_

_And we're all getting hosed tonight, oh oh oh-oh_

**'W-w-what is going on? Dark, stop laughing! This isn't funny! Someone's going to get hurt!'**

The kaito slowly lowered to lay and wrap around the branch he'd been standing on, nearly biting into the bark to stop the odd and slightly audible bursts of air coming out as he finally allowed himself to breathe. He scrunched his eyes and pressed closer into the branch, trying to erase the hilarious picture so vivid in his head so he could survive the task at hand.

It wasn't working...

**'Dark!'**

'I don't know what you saw, but that almost killed me! That one guard popped his ass out better than a stripper!'

At this, Daisuke crumbled and broke. Hearing and feeling the kid's unrestrained laughter was making the virtually impossible task of holding back his own completely impossible.

'Daisuke, help me out here! Think of something random!'

The police were getting really loud now at their insubordinate fellows, but their shouts did nothing to cover the surge of music. Dark was going to explode if this kept up.

**'Flying...zebra!'** Daisuke tried, and then snorted, crumbling again into laughter.

Dark made a weird sort of pained, grunting cough, but managed to stuff a fist in his mouth. He looked around with red and watery eyes to be sure no one had heard him. They hadn't. The few remaining guards were yards from him now, and too wrapped up in what was happening "on stage" to have noticed the slip.

'That didn't help!' the thief bickered, almost whining.

** 'S-sorry!' **

'All right, out!' Dark barked. It was all the warning Daisuke got before he was roughly shoved to the forefront and suddenly clinging to the branch. Momentary fear at falling and being discovered slammed the humor out of him, made worse by the fact that he was now back in his own form thanks to the Dark fully retreating. Inside his head, Dark's laughter was rocketing around like a massive bucket of unleashed bouncy balls.

Gaining his physical bearings back, the redhead brushed some limp wet hair out of his eyes and remarked, 'I think we finally know your weakness.' It almost felt like his insides were shaking along with Dark's strong, inner laughter. The sensation stopped as the kaito finally pulled himself back together.

**'Just...don't tell...the cops that...'** The purple-haired kaito's mental voice sounded spent.

A rush of adrenaline surged as Dark became alert again.

** 'The artwork is on the move.'** Daisuke could tell Dark was looking and searching out from his crimson eyes. There was a vague compulsion to glance in certain directions that the redhead had come to know meant the kaito was lightly steering him. **'In fact, it has been on the move. It seems to be coming this way.'**

Coincidence? Couldn't be. The radiating tension coming from Dark told him that much. That and both of them didn't believe in coincidences.

Daisuke ignored the relief as the oppressive music shut off from whatever non-existent speakers it had been buffeting out of. He watched the police struggling with themselves and the two unfortunate ones as they were carted away, all the while tuning more into Dark and therefore tracking the powerful trail of magic.

The police, shocked and upset, continued to buzz around in large groups like a hive of angry bees that had been swatted at. They must all be rookies since they weren't organizing their movements. Most were out of the formations they'd had, and it didn't look as if they'd reform anytime soon. Maybe they felt the overlaying magic in the air and the instinct to regroup for defense fought the need to defend some mark. It was certainly powerful enough that some of the ones with a strong sixth sense should feel something more than the obvious amiss.

'Are you ready to take back control?' Daisuke asked, more than ready for the alteration in appearance. Not to mention get a bit of "shelter" from the persistent rain. In answer, Dark eased to the forefront, slowly changing their form while he looked to an area left of them. The warped aura was approaching fast from that side, but he couldn't see any movement from the night yet, nor hear any splashing from puddles. Though why he was expecting to hear a splash from something that weighed all-together less than a thin paperback novel might have something more do to with how magically powerful it felt in contrast to its physical size.

'Let's pull a runner and see if it follows,' Dark said, as he moved and seemingly disappeared.

**-****-.-**

Satoshi panted, trying to keep up with the slithery artwork as it raced low along the mush the wet ground had become. He was afraid that at any second the thing was going to turn around and throw a spell at him. With the way he was running flat out for it, there would be no time to react and defend. He only hoped that if it did choose to attack, Krad would step in. Though freeing the angel to control the artwork could create a most dangerous situation for all in the vicinity. But what choice did he have? He couldn't let this artwork get away. On its own it was a calamity waiting to happen.

Was he doing the right thing in trying to keep Dark from it, then? Satoshi had never trusted anything that had to do with the Hikaris, much less anything that had to do with the Black Wings. But that didn't make the judgment concerning the phantom thief automatically right. Not anymore. He couldn't continue to ignore the care in which the thief exercised for Daisuke's sake.

Or maybe that was hope talking since it was looking like the end was right around the corner.

Was he really making the right decision in pursuing, then? He didn't know. He just didn't know. But he did know he didn't fully trust that the Niwas really knew what they were doing in dealing with the arts. Their seals certainly never lasted long; always coming undone when a new clan member became the phantom thief.

Getting unusually scattered thoughts back on the task at hand, he noticed the artwork definitely had a destination. It hadn't veered once since it had stopped chasing him. What had made it change its mind? Satoshi wasn't sensing Dark calling to it. In fact, he wasn't sensing the thief at all anymore. But that could stem from a problem on Krad's end. There was no question the hunter was as far from his peak as he was. Then again, it could be his reluctance toward Krad causing the sensory deprivation. For some reason the mockery of an angel was calmer now, so there wasn't an overwhelming impression of him or his abilities in his system.

A bright scaled tail disappeared through a long line of hedges. Satoshi cursed, scrambling over the green barrier. Hard tips of thin, trimmed branches scratched at him, leaving decent marks on both hands and cutting through parts of the one bandage. It didn't slow him down, so he didn't care. What were a few extra scratches in the scheme of events, anyway?

This artwork had made a total mockery of the police. He couldn't deny not wanting to become another who couldn't do his job. Admittedly, that was also fueling his desire to recapture it, not just the lack of faith in the Niwas. Although the men who had spotted him chasing what looked like nothing more than a particularly thin snake might think him a fool; he'd had to throw down his walkie-talkie to keep from being constantly badgered from the Sergeant.

If he could just catch the artwork and seal it back into its normal form and return it, the others wouldn't be able to say a word about his seemingly strange behavior. Though why he cared only went to reveal the stubborn streak of pride he'd never been able to fully neglect. It was stupid to have any source of self-praise when the only purpose your decrepit flesh served was as vessel to a despotic fallen angel. His father would see to it that this "strange behavior" didn't hurt his position as commander. There were no consequences for him that he had to worry about.

As far as the ones that had become fuddle-headed from the blaring music earlier, he couldn't say the same. Even though most of the men had only fallen out of formation due to the effects of the disorienting magic playing within the music. This artwork liked fiddling with the brain. And that sounded close to what a certain something else liked to do in its spare time.

Nonetheless, if he could just catch the Hebi no Hōseki, then everything should fall back into place step-by-step. There had to be some excuse that could explain the crystal of the monument breaking open and the apparent bejeweled appearance of a snake that took priority over their missing target...

An iron picket fence loomed. Satoshi wasn't sure he could clear the dangerous looking spikes of it without serious injury, so he veered for the open gate as he watched the glimmering snake wiggle through the wide-spaced bars. It suddenly changed course, crossing the bricked pathway of the park's walk-in entrance, blending into the night as it put on a burst of speed. Satoshi dared to try running faster in his already taxing sprint, only to slip once he reached the gate and bricked pathway. He crashed chest-first into a skid before coming to a halt. He laid there, eyes wide, blinking past the falling rain that made it past his slouching, rain-flecked glasses, unable to move or even breathe. It was agony. But before recovery fully set in he somehow hauled himself up off the hard surface and continued on in the direction he'd last seen the tip of a tail flick, albeit a lot slower than before.

The park disappeared in the ever-growing distance behind as he went over and down a hill. Aching, energy plummeting, he felt like collapsing. He continued on, somehow managing to turn a temporary loss of traction into a faster mode of transport for a short distance. The pathway finally led to a cobbled street. Many small shops lined up and down it in neat rows. Satoshi paused, wheezing. The artwork was nowhere within sight.

"Don't tell...me...I…lost it..." Satoshi panted, and then cringed as he hunched over, racked with coughs. It didn't help his sore chest, nor help him catch his breath. It felt like he was simultaneously choking and blowing the life out of himself. His head suddenly felt as if it might explode, and his vision swam for an instant, causing him to fall to one knee.

**'The Hebi no Hōseki went between the flower and lawn care shops,'** Krad helpfully pointed out, instantly making Satoshi suspicious. When the coughing subsided, he stayed kneeling, grateful to finally pull in a few easy breaths. Not wasting said precious breaths, the bluenette link-spoke, asking, 'Why are you suddenly helping me? Why not push to take over?' He hated link-speaking; it made him feel more connected to Krad somehow.

He took off to the left for the flower and lawn shops regardless of uncertainties. He wasn't about to try tapping into magic and therefore Krad by accident to sense for himself, and without anything to go on, there was no option left but to trust his other diabolical self. Or give up this chase. But could that really be an option?

The answer to that was a definite _no_. For everything he'd fought for, for everything he was, and for everything he wasn't he had to recapture this artwork. Or at least test something...

**'You cannot handle my transforming at the moment, and I will not let Dark get ****away with this artwork. Not this one. Not for anything. Do not get me wrong; when the ****time is right I will be taking over.'**

'I expect nothing less.' Corrupt amusement washed over them, for once not coming from Krad. 'I'm glad that all your hardheaded overexertion is finally catching up with you. I've come to terms for what that means for me, but have you?'

Anger boiled deep inside, but then, so did an even darker form of amusement. And this time it did come from Krad. **'I am not the only one who lies, Master Satoshi.'**

The comment wasn't made with the sole intention of pointing out a truth, but, like Satoshi's had been, was meant to be a well-aimed barb that stemmed from a noxious past. Satoshi grit his teeth and said nothing more. It was pointless against someone such as Krad.

It seemed he ran half the town, passing a multitude of different shops and homes; taking short cuts by going through alleyways—past silent trolleys and over their tracks. Smells diluted by the rain assaulted, some good, some rather bad. But the good ones—the ones that smelled of a good home-cooked dinner very near their respective homes—made his stomach rumble. It was back to doing its painful grumbling. How annoying.

Satoshi vaulted over a wire fence, still following Krad's lead. He prayed that the family of the two-story sand-colored brick house they were running to the back of didn't own a guard dog. It wasn't until he vaulted back over the fence on the opposite side that he realized they were just on the outskirts of Azumano. Thick woods weren't ten yards in front of him and, according to Krad, the Hebi wasn't too far into them.

In fact, according to the hunter, the artwork seemed to be circling one particular spot.

Satoshi crept forward carefully, trying to stifle the loudness of his breathing. Rain still fell from the sky, but it was drastically lessening. The cool water had soaked everything, making even the lightest footstep squish loudly in the almost-quiet pattering of the night. Reaching the tree line, he held his breath, tilting his head to listen for any noise above the sprinkling rain while scanning the ground and everything on it. It was dark, but open patches through twining branches showed a wide sky, and the weak light of the partially revealed moon glittered all over wet debris.

He was forced to breathe again; the rapid sound almost too loud. It kept tune with his racing heart. The bluenette reached a shaking hand into a front pocket, bringing out a glimmering white feather. It shined like a pearl in the darkness, and he swore he heard a hiss.

On high alert, Satoshi stepped into the woods carefully. Funny how going so slow brought focus to the many blisters his wet shoes and socks had rubbed into existence.

Something rustled. Satoshi spun right. A fierce hiss sounded and he looked up. A thin, pure gold snake no bigger than his forearm sprung from high off a tall tree, the emerald and citrine jewels embedded in its back glinting as they refracted bits of moonlight. Onyx eyes glistened as it arrowed straight for his neck, its spear-shaped mouth open in preparation for the bite.

It took less than a second.

Less than a second for Krad to channel blistering magic to the feather, and less than a second for the feather to flare unevenly, and then that light to literally shatter as something in him snapped painfully and what energy gathered was lost. Less than a second for swimming vision to lock onto a purple-headed figure standing high in the same tree the snake had leapt from. Then rain fell onto his upturned face as he tilted more and more, and kept tilting backward. He closed his blue eyes, knowing that, even as he put a leg behind him to correct his stance, even as he fortified himself from the shock of whatever damage Krad had just done, that the snake was going to get him.

He didn't expect the phantom thief to come drop on him like some kind of leather-clad Tarzan and knock them both down flat, or the thief to rescue him by twisting and batting the snake away in midair. Nor did he expect the sky and earth to collide as they rotated faster than his brain could process when Dark picked him up, slung him over a shoulder, and jumped, hanging by one arm on the nearest branch above to avoid a counterattack from the artwork.

Dark hoisted and wrapped his legs around the branch, somehow managing to both lift safely on top of it and balance his human cargo. Satoshi found his legs going over the thief's back as he straightened, at the same time one of his shoulders being roughly grabbed and his body rotated to where he was face-up.

"I suggest you wrap your legs around me and hang on tight. Just try not to choke me," Dark said teasingly, as the kaito's larger body lightly pinned him to the trunk of the tree, keeping him steady. Satoshi's feet weren't even touching the tree branch. Dark was practically dangling him over his back by the one shoulder. It hurt. But even so, he couldn't help but be impressed by the show of strength. Dark was a lot stronger than he appeared. All that lean muscle was deceiving.

"Hurry," Dark urged, as Satoshi didn't move. The bluenette was shocked, both mentally and physically. His brain was processing much too slow. Something was wrong, he knew. And that's when pain rolled down his arm and through his chest. He coughed as his chest seemed to seize up, his forehead hitting against the nape of Dark's neck. "Hey! I don't need more germs spit on me tonight!"

Satoshi wheezed, his breath coming out in sharp gasps. Dark glanced behind him, frowning as he saw glasses dangling off a shallow-skinned face. For an instant crimson burned through amethyst as concern took precedence. He could feel Satoshi's fluttering heart knocking between his shoulder blades—it was fast and irregular. Dark pretended not to notice. It was best to take the course of indifference in order to save a man's pride, and use tact to distract.

"Look, I don't like the thought anymore than you do, but I've been playing Ring-around-the-rosy with this damn snake for a while, and I'm about to have to again. So unless you want to hit the ground and chance it coming after you again..."

Satoshi shook his head, unable to spare the effort for any words. The action left his glasses hanging precariously off an ear. One too-thin arm quickly took off and folded the glasses into a pocket for safe keeping, and then came around Dark's neck. The hand of it was scratched and prior injuries bandaged, the kaito noticed, before he let the shoulder of the other arm go. That arm, too, went around his neck. Next, legs lifted and came firmly around his waist. Dark barely had time to suppress a shudder before his senses screamed at him. The snake had climbed up and was now crawling over the base of the branch, trying to get a chomp out of his boot. Dark picked up his foot fast, bringing it right back down on the snake. But it formed a quick barrier around itself. It was like hitting a dome made of titanium, and his boot crashed to a halt before slipping right off. The force of it reverberated all the way up to his thigh.

"Shit!" Dark cursed, having to catch himself and dodge the snake's next strike. He leapt to the side onto another welcoming branch, then climbed higher, all the while rotating around the width of the tree, trying to catch the moment the snake left him an opening. Raindrops shook free from encroaching leaves, adding to what little was now trickling from the sky.

This was similar to fighting a version of Krad, but one with wells of magic that didn't mind throwing it at odd times. And it was smaller—harder to hit whenever he got the rare chance. Now with the added weight on his back (as extremely light as it was), it didn't look as if he'd be able to get in so much as a cheap shot.

"Tut! Back to playing Ring-a-round-the-rosy. Going around in circles like this up a tree kind of reminds me of the swirling tracks of color on a candy-cane..."

Strangely enough, the ear next to where a chin was buried into the divot of his shoulder caught the sound of a fleeting chuckle. A grin flitted across Dark's features.

"You put yourself in this situation. You owe me big time for getting you out of it, Little Commander."

"Right. And what would you like?" Satoshi said, so breathlessly soft it was hard to catch the words over the wind as they moved.

"For one thing, you to stop getting in these situations," Dark replied distractedly. He stopped and, with a black feather, in midair quickly drew an intricate glowing crest that pointed downward. However, it was incomplete and faded as Dark had to sidestep a small spear of green light. The acid-colored attack zipped far above the tree, bringing a large branch crashing down. Luckily the smoldering branch was falling at an angle where it was of little concern as it dropped past them. "This thing's fast and unpredictable, in both movement and spells."

Satoshi closed his eyes again, and kept them closed because the sight of rotating ground below and trees above made him dizzy and nauseous. At least, he was going to blame the rotating ground and trees on that. His face scrunched as he concentrated, tapping just a little into thoughts purposefully left open for him, and grunting as if remembering a bad memory. Finally, he spoke, "This artwork is infatuated with what it cannot touch. It is also very attention deficit."

"It's a snake...with no limbs. It can't touch most things," Dark said sarcastically, then laughed. "I guess it's an Adder. You know _Add_er snake? A.D.D?" Satoshi ignored this and Dark shook his head, jumping higher. How was he so agile on the wobbly, slick branches? Was he using some sort of magic? Was that how he'd beat the snake in falling on top of him? Or had Dark been lower in the tree than it had? Satoshi couldn't remember.

"What I mean is, distract it with something that has no substance. Part of the reason it is after us is because it senses magic. Magic has no viable substance of its own, yet it's powerful."

"So you mean it wants what we have because it's elusive?"

"Yes."

"That doesn't really make sense..."

"It's all about chasing after what you can't have." When looked at from the angle of the Hikari, that made a whole _lot_ of sense. "Blame its greed and lack of focus on input from three very different Hikari sources."

"It seems rather focused on me at the moment. Good thing the trees here are so tall."

"Do you have a flashlight and rope?"

"Yes..."

"Tie a feather channeled with some of your energy to the flashlight, have it turned on, and then dangle it from the rope for a few seconds before dropping it. Make sure it sees it. If I've got this right, the Hebi no Hōseki won't be able to resist going back down for it."

"Why the...? That is absurd! How could that possibly work?"

"It will be drawn to the light, providing you dim your magic when you drop it. And that the flashlight is heavy duty and survives the fall..."

"The Hebi no Hōseki does realize it's based on a reptile, not a bug, right?"

"It has nothing to do with that. It's just fascinated with what it can't have and will become engrossed in trying to capture the light."

"So if I put an incantation in my feather and it eats my flashlight..."

"That won't work, because it will refuse to touch the light's source. It just wants the light, and will probably bask in it before quickly growing bored. I'd guess you won't have but a minute or two at most to get down there and do what you've got to do."

"So you're going to let me have this one?"

"I can no more do that than Daisuke's body can stop stealing my family's artifacts."

Arms tightened around the kaito's throat. Not enough to cut off air flow, but enough to hint at a threat. Suddenly, it didn't seem like a good idea to have Satoshi piggybacking. But Krad wasn't dumb enough to attack right now, not while being in the middle of their precarious situation.

"You're more than that..." Dark mumbled inaudibly, the waver to the voice sounding like Daisuke.

Dark reached to his belt, still jumping and climbing as he pulled a small LED light from a pouch. He also unhooked a thin but strong weave of rope from his side, momentarily using both hands to put the two items together, along with a feather. Steadying himself for another jump, he gripped the wrapped flashlight, giving a few pulses of magic to charge the feather before doing as Satoshi had bid. Perching on the next branch and clicking the light on, he dangled it a few feet below him. The snake came into view from around the tree, spotted him, and started climbing directly up. Dark wiggled the rope. Almost immediately the snake stopped, the scales of its belly gripping onto the wet bark. Its onyx eyes fixated on the light as its head started jerking side-to-side with the sharp movement of it.

"Unbelievable..."

"Now suppress your magic as far as you can and let go of the rope," Satoshi said, also looking down at the entranced snake, but he quickly scrunched his eyes shut again at the sight of ground farther below. He wasn't scared of heights; it was just playing havoc with his stomach for some reason.

The flashlight fell, and suddenly there was a tail where a scaly head had been as the snake wriggled back down the tree as fast as it could.

"There's always something wrong with a Hikari artwork…" Dark commented.

"If that's how you feel perhaps you should let the Hikari deal with these matters."

Dark turned to peer over his shoulder at Satoshi, giving an insolent grin. "No can do, Commander. The Hikari have proven that they don't have the moral strength to do what needs to be done, especially not with Krad in them."

"You just love meddling in affairs that don't concern you." Satoshi had to resist the sudden urge to inflict harm upon the thief. It wouldn't be in his best interest if Dark decided to drop him along with that flashlight. "You're wasting time. We need to get down fast."

"Your wish is my command," Dark said overly cheerful, moving to straddle the trunk of the tree. Satoshi wasn't sure how he slid down the whole way managing to avoid all the branches so smoothly, but he did. The Hebi no Hōseki was still slithering back and forth within the beam of the fallen flashlight when they thumped and squished on wet ground. Satoshi immediately push off Dark, stumbling back to one knee. Dark spared him a glance and a shrug, but the glint in his amethyst eyes suggested he was ready for a fight once he disabled their mutual target.

Dark circled their prey, and in doing so was able to put Satoshi directly in his line of sight. He wasn't willing to chance being blind-sided by a vicious attack from Krad, no matter how weak the bluenette seemed. If the artwork noticed him, then it simply didn't care. It just wanted the light of the flashlight. It opened its mouth and repeatedly snapped at the bright beam, as if trying to swallow it.

Dark chanted a quick spell of restriction, one that he would need to build on if he wanted to have a chance of it holding the snake when he performed a temporary seal for transport. But the quick spell wasn't quick enough. The hastily gathered magic attracted the attention of the Hebi no Hōseki before it even left his body, and in a desperate strike it lunged high, wrapping around Dark's right forearm before even his supernatural reflexes could kick in. Dark sucked in a surprised breath, and, acting on pure instinct, slung the arm the artwork had taken hostage. But the snake held on firmly with its scales.

Regaining _some_ composure, Dark drew a feather, intent on hardening it and spearing between the snake's eyes. But he wasn't quick enough in doing this, either. He cursed and inside Daisuke shouted as the snake reared up and brought its wide-open mouth down on his flesh. Dark cringed, expecting to feel fangs bury deep. Instead, however, he felt stiff bristles bend and part.

"What…?" Dark questioned almost shakily. He watched the Hebi no Hōseki twist and gnaw as it tried to bite over and over again. But each time Dark only felt the tickle of bristles. Finally he grabbed the small head of the snake, squeezing the jaws of it open so he could inspect inside its mouth. It hissed very angrily.

"It has paintbrush bristles for fangs…" Dark didn't know if that was humorous or sad.

Satoshi tilted his head slightly, his expression confused as he stood. "I'm sure that the Hebi no Hōseki has fangs, and it can be very deadly depending on what it marks you with."

Dark raised an eyebrow at Satoshi. "What do you mean 'marks you with'?"

Satoshi took his glasses out of his pocket, ignoring the streaks of water across the lens and put them on before responding. "It means, instead of injecting regular venom, the Hebi no Hōseki injects you with an ink-like mixture. This then spreads under your skin to form the physical representation of whichever curse it has decided to imprint in you. As long as you bear the mark, you will be helpless to whatever the whims are of it."

Dark suddenly stiffened, frowning at the squirming snake on his arm. "So, if one were to get bitten and marked by this thing, it could control the victim?" This was mighty important information not to know. He'd been anticipating a difficult capture tonight, but nowhere near the magnitude of what this artwork was capable of dishing out had he gotten bit. Though that was the problem with sealing artworks at their first signs of awakening; you didn't get a chance to learn what they could do. That was more or less a good thing, and wasn't a problem if they were handled before they ever got free. But that wasn't always possible, as tonight had shown.

"Yes and no," Satoshi replied, and his voice cracked. He held a hand to his chest for a moment before clearing his throat and continuing, "A whim is imprinted on you at the time of its bite. In order to imprint another whim on you, it would have to bite you again and bear another mark. You should hurry and seal it," Satoshi added with an air of warning. Dark looked back at the young commander and studied him.

"It would be best if you walked away now."

"I can't," Satoshi's frustrated reply floated across the distance wearily. The last of the rainclouds passed from in front of the moon, and within its light—his wet clothes clinging to his body—he looked frailer than he ever had. The big jacket couldn't disguise the fact he was far below a healthy weight. In fact, it enhanced it. It made his frame seem burdened and smaller than it actually was. Something churned within Dark—within Daisuke: An anger that had no outlet. To punish Krad meant to punish Satoshi.

"You don't have the power to fight this war," Dark stated. Satoshi narrowed his eyes and clinched his fists, feeling demeaned by having the truth spoken so bluntly from what was supposed to be his enemy.

"I also don't have the power to walk away from this." Determination was in his posture and gleamed brightly from his eyes, but a willingness to give in also showed to the kaito from within the brilliant blue. Satoshi couldn't walk away without Krad immediately acting out, but Satoshi could and would stall his actions here tonight. Krad had to know his Tamer was planning on doing so, so what was the hunter waiting for?

_The perfect moment to strike._ The thought slid unpleasantly through Dark's mind.

And the reason Krad was restraining himself and having to wait for that perfect moment did not bode well for Satoshi. The Wing Tamer must be near his final limit. Dark had to admit, no other Hikari had fought Krad tooth and nail as Satoshi had. The kid was strong. If he had been taking proper care of himself, Dark might never have stood a chance against him at full strength.

The Hebi no Hōseki hissed, reminding Dark that he should go ahead and make a move to seal it. The moment it was, however, would probably be the moment Krad struck. It made sense. Krad wouldn't have to worry about the Hebi no Hōseki, and Dark would be drained that much further from the effort of sealing something so strong. Probably within the last crucial seconds of the seal being completed and when he was most distracted on the ritual is when Krad would make his move. If that was the case, the better option would be to run now. But in doing so, it would guarantee Krad coming after him at this moment, and without the Hebi no Hōseki sealed yet, that could pose a major problem.

Unless...Satoshi's body gave out.

'**No!'** Daisuke shouted firmly. '**Do not purposely try for that!'**

'Relax. I knew you wouldn't allow it. But, you know, we can't stop what is happening to Satoshi. You need to accept that.'

The snake on his arm suddenly squeezed tight onto his skin, then twisted its body around his arm fast. The result was like a rope embedding itself. Blood welled up around the snake and Dark jerked, nearly losing his hold on the snake's head. Its body pressed further into the wound it had created, and muscles readied again. For a second, Dark almost let go of its head on purpose to try and stop the attempt, but that's when the bristles in its mouth glowed. They gathered into two long bunches on either side of its mouth, and then shaped and hardened into a pair of shiny, brown-colored fangs.

"Well, damn," Dark said, before grunting in pain as the snake twisted and sank its body in deeper. Blood dripped over the snake's many scales and onto the ground. If this kept up, a major artery could be severed.

Satoshi hurried forward, but Dark halted him. "Stay where you are!" Amethyst eyes flashed bright in the darkness, the slashes of them revealing a wildness born of pain and fear. Satoshi paused for all of a second before continuing for him.

"You need help!" Satoshi reached for the Hebi no Hōseki, but Dark jumped further back, keeping ample distance between them.

"I don't need your help," Dark growled, grimacing again as his arm was further torn into.

"So you're willing to let harm come to Daisuke?" Satoshi scowled, revealing teeth as his eyes flashed cold fire.

"I can pull it off," Dark said, even as he pulled its head to untwine it from around his limb. But the Hebi no Hōseki didn't like being stretched and tugged so awkwardly. It gripped impossibly tight, hissing and spitting as black liquid trailed thickly from its fangs. His arm began shaking badly. Dark tried harder, prying it slowly from his skin until finally it had enough. The Hebi no Hōseki's head glowed green and smoke rose from the tips of his fingers that held onto the jaws. Dark's preservation instinct made him let go before he even knew he had. The next second, he hollered as a pair of fangs grazed the bone of his wrist.

Dark knelt on both knees, pressing his right arm hard against the wet ground with his left, almost as if he were trying to squish the snake. "You're going to get it for that," Dark growl, his eyes looking even more wild than before. He grinned ruthlessly, showing very prominent incisors as he forced his uneven breathing more under control. The Hebi no Hōseki's onyx eyes bugged and its scales quickly drained from gold to a sickly yellow.

"Bite me, will ya!" Dark shouted. He picked his arm up, opened his mouth, and gave the snake a dose of its own medicine. It writhed and completely let go of him, but Dark wasn't going to do the same. He bit harder, holding the back of its head firmly between his teeth. Dark took a black feather and quickly drew another crest in midair. It glowed brightly, and Dark slung his head, spitting the snake into the middle of it, where it floated and curled on itself.

Laughter that was both pleased and amused rang out. Dark looked back over at Satoshi. The bluenette's head was thrown back as he shook in unrestrained mirth.

"At least one of us is having a good time of it," Dark grumbled, watching Satoshi extremely close as he began a small ceremony of sealing. It would take more power than was usual just to ensure a safe trip back home. Satoshi quieted and watched the kaito silently, letting him concentrate on his incantation. His blue eyes held so much more now, but were devoid of the caring he'd shown so recently.

Krad was close.

The moment Dark was finished speaking the ritualistic words, the purple, almost-black light absorbed back into the feather he held outward and the Hebi no Hōseki fell apart into a decorative set of brushes. Satoshi pointed to the thief's somewhat mangled arm. "Is there a kanji spreading under your wrist?"

Dark watched Satoshi through his fading crest as it dropped the jeweled kit on the ground, surprised Krad was still hesitating. He lifted his stinging and burning arm up toward the moon. Blood had coated the limb, and so had some mud and grass from the ground. The skin surrounding the tiny trenches in his arm was puckered. "I can't tell," Dark said, rubbing some of the mess away. He heard material ripping and looked to see Satoshi tearing the bottom portion of his shirt.

"That isn't necessary. Since I sealed the Hebi no Hōseki, shouldn't any curse it inflicted lose its power?"

Satoshi shook his head and came just close enough to throw the wad of material to Dark. He caught it. "Take a look for yourself—leather isn't very good at wiping. I don't even know why you're wearing it with the weather we've had."

"It's treated and I take care of it, so all the water won't ruin it," Dark defended, shrugging as he used the piece of shirt to clean his arm.

"The Hebi no Hōseki is a particularly strong artwork. Its power won't fade just because it's sealed. Mostly because, instead of being the main "battery", it manipulates what is present to do its deed."

Dark chuckled as he wiped at the mud and blood. "This artwork really does take after Krad. Does that mean the sadistic, homicidal maniac likes Lady Gaga?"

"Who?" Satoshi seemed confused. Dark gave him a droll look.

"You honestly don't know who that is?"

"I don't read tabloids."

Dark brought a hand to his forehead, smearing a bit of blood on his brow as he sighed dramatically. "You don't listen to much music either, apparently."

"If this is about what the Hebi no Hōseki kindly shared with us all, then I'm afraid it was just another nameless song to me. In fact, I wasn't sure until now if it was something it had created on its own or heard. My guess would be, since it's an actual song, the Hebi no Hōseki heard it from someone passing by and liked it. And the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, so it isn't a great leap to assume Krad would or does also like it."

Dark shook his head and laughed, but stopped upon sight of his wrist. "Damn it…"

"What does it say?" Satoshi asked, suspecting the worst.

"I'm not sure yet. It hasn't finished spreading. Right now it resembles the number seven with a line through the middle..." Dark looked at Satoshi, seeing the same sinking fear reflecting back at him. Although such a look being directed at him from Satoshi was more than just a little weird.

"That shape _is_ a starting point in the kanji for death, but it also is for others..." Satoshi, frankly, sucked at trying to be optimistic; his tone gave away just how much he thought it likely the snake had wanted the thief dead in the hype of the moment.

"Since you seem to know so much, do you know how to stop this?" Dark asked sarcastically, thrusting his wrist and exposing the slowly forming mark for emphasis. Satoshi frowned as much from annoyance as from their lack of options.

"To get the mark removed without it first running its course is to have the Hebi no Hōseki nullify it willingly with another bite."

Dark snorted, seeming completely calm—even detached—about the distraught news. He was quite aware, however, of the way Satoshi was trembling. It was probably from the coolness of the night and being thoroughly soaked. But, with all his leather, Dark was comfortable enough. Was it any wonder why he'd have worn anything else? Dark also noticed how Satoshi's eyes darted every so often to the brushes on the ground. It was a sign Krad might be getting impatient.

"So, another words, it's practically impossible to have the mark removed." Dark looked at his wrist, seriously hoping that a capital 'E' wouldn't start forming behind the seven. It was time to stop dilly-dallying; he had to get the Hebi no Hōseki back to Emiko and Daiki. With any luck, Daiki might be able to bribe the snake into canceling its mark. But what was Dark's move going to be here? Without a doubt if he made a move to pick up the items Krad would attack. This meant disabling Satoshi should be priority. The question was: how to go about it?

At that moment a bush shook in the distance. Dark glanced at it, and Satoshi turned to do the same. Dark raised an eyebrow, his eyes allowing him to catch a glimpse of something Satoshi's surely could not. A sinister grin twitched on his lips.

"I wonder what that was," Dark said, using the excuse to come a few steps toward Satoshi. Satoshi faced back to him, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. The kaito was sure his voice hadn't led on to anything, much less his body language and current facial expression. The kid must be suspicious of him simply because he'd come closer. Dark lifted his hands in the universal sign of surrender, but this only made Satoshi more uneasy. Another sound from the woods had him turning back on impulse, and that's when Dark ran at him.

The last thing Satoshi saw was a black-gloved fist, and then he hit the ground, mud splashing as his glasses went flying. He didn't feel any pain in his cheek; just saw the bright stars behind his eyelids and felt the earth rotating too quickly underneath him. But, even so, it seemed he'd only been down a few seconds before he propped himself back up, cold mud running down the side of his face from his hair. Pain streaked through his bottom jaw then, but the sight of the empty, shadowy woods made it go strangely numb.

It felt like a vortex of vacuumed air sucked and ripped at his heart. He collapsed back into the mud, gripping his chest with both hands and holding back a scream. Something came bolting out of the woods then.

"Satoshi!"

It was Miranda.

"W-what...are you...?" _Doing here?_ Satoshi couldn't finish. _Get away!_ He wanted to warn, but she fell to his side and hauled him into her lap, regardless of the discomfort of the mud.

"Satoshi!" she said again, almost frantically. "I saw him hit you, but then...! What's wrong with you?" A destroyed camera dangled from her neck.

Satoshi shook his head and pushed against her, hoping she'd get the message and leave him alone. Krad was in too blind of a rage to consider her at all, even if somewhere deep inside the hunter didn't want to hurt her. Why she was one of the few he didn't want to harm was anyone's guess, seeing as how he couldn't stand humanity as a whole.

A twig cracked from within the woods, not far from where Miranda had emerged. She glanced over her shoulder at it, and Satoshi went deathly still. Liquid gold flooded over the blue of his irises, and by the time Miranda looked back down at him and gasped, his face was blank. Though there was a strong air of destruction about him, seeming to leak from his burning eyes. The hair on the back of Miranda's neck stood on end. She'd never seen such an expression before, but there was no denying the face of a cold-blooded killer.

"Sato–... Krad?" Miranda hesitantly asked. Gold eyes revolved to gaze into hers and Miranda felt paralyzed in a way that involved more than just her body. It was as if her very soul were bolted to this instant in time.

"You and Dark had me thinking differently for a short time. You should be proud," Satoshi's cold tone held Krad's undeniable accent. "I was shocked to see you last night, but that will not save you this time. I do not ever want to see you again!" The roar was followed by a blast of magic that had her reeling into a tree. She slumped down it, feeling as though she'd only been shoved particularly hard. And she was mad.

"I only want to be around you!" she shouted from on her knees, her breath catching as Satoshi's form stood and slowly stalked toward her. "I care—" her shaky sentence was cut off as he jacked her up by her brown jacket's collar single-handedly, holding her as high as he could for his shorter height. Her feet just barely scraped the earth.

"Humans are so meddlesome," he said, almost offhandedly, without any strain in his voice. Miranda gripped the arm that held her so easily. It shouldn't be possible for him to support another at such an angle with such a thin build, much less so easily. She wasn't fat, but she wasn't such a pixie anymore since she'd toned and started eating right. Awareness surged—awareness of a heated power building. She could feel it flicking over the skin of her that was exposed. Currents of flowing air literally became visible as they danced with a golden hue.

Krad was going to kill her.

The fact spread like a dark stain in her gut and she went limp in his hold. Searing gold eyes stared into hers. Something roared in defiance within. If she died here, her life would be meaningless. She hadn't yet left her mark in this world. And, yet, all she could picture was bridging this…being to the rest of humanity. Which was weird, to say the least, when all he wanted was her death. But she couldn't deny the pull that drew her to him. The senseless attraction must come from an all-together stupid part of her. Dark had been right; Krad was too dangerous.

She screamed, and for some reason his grip left her collar and her feet plopped down onto level ground. He took a few steps back from her, his gaze full of confusion, as if her screaming had been the last thing he had ever expected. Fierce anger clouded her mind, and at that moment she couldn't stand him; not the way he was looking at her, not the way his beautiful eyes glowed so brilliantly, not the way he was such a heart-throbbing enigma, not the way his very essence seemed to call to something deep inside her—nothing! She ran at him and raised her fist for his face. He blocked it easily, making her arm go numb as he carelessly knocked it away, which angered her further. She punched again, this time with the other arm. He smoothly dodged and kicked a leg out from under her. As she fell, she was already rolling to get back up. She surprised him as she sprung straight up for him. Her raised hand went right back for his face, and she curved her fingers, wanting to rake her nails down and destroy his features. Maybe then she wouldn't be so drawn to him.

Some unseen force grabbed her by her shoulders and pulled harshly. It felt as if she crossed a great distance within a few seconds as whatever it was dragged her through the woods, making her incredibly disoriented. The ground was a blur and trees whipped by; all the while the looming towers of wood seemed to lose their shape even more as she guessed her speed was increasing. She screamed again, and that's when whatever had her stopped. It felt as if an anvil had settled in her gut as she was dropped abruptly and pinned down by her shoulders, right in the middle of a large puddle.

"I hope you've learnt your lesson," a familiar cocky voice said. She hadn't realized she'd closed her eyes, but popped them back opened at the sound so close to her ear. But there was nothing there. Nothing but varying shades of darkness that held little shape as they retreated.

She was all alone in some nameless part of the woods.

"Gah! That's it! I've had it with you guys!" she shouted and sat up, punching the air above her. The gritty mud leaking into her pants only infuriated her worse. "I tried to play nice, but no more! Your secrets are no longer safe, you hear me?" After another unintelligible shout that sounded like a cat getting its tail stepped on, Miranda stood up and carefully surveyed the area. In one direction far into the distance what looked like a streetlight gleamed, barely breaking into the darkness. It was the only source of light besides the weak moon. Not feeling the least bit grateful to Dark having left her a clear way back to town, she took off in a royal huff.

It was a long, stressful walk through town back to her car. Dark had loped her through the woods to come out at a completely different part of Azumano than she was used to, effectively getting her lost. A while had passed before she'd recognized any landmarks.

She tried not to think about how horrible a turn events had taken. Every time she did tears threatened to spill. She'd known Krad had a temper, and didn't fight on quite the right side (though, neither did Dark), but…to almost be killed by him... When she had first laid eyes on him she'd been drawn to the aura about him. Something about him infatuated her, drew her in, and she was sure there was something she could—no—_would_ do for him. But her heart felt like mush. He was just too rough for her to handle.

"Damn him! Damn them both!" She swiped at her eyes, making it to her car and unlocking a back door. She grabbed her smaller camera, throwing the ruined one from around her neck far across the backseat. She wasn't about to go home empty-handed. Digging into the middle compartment between the seats, she pulled out a police uniform jacket and tugged it on.

Dawn's Edge Park was still full of activity. It looked as if the big-wheels had left, but many of the officers had stayed behind. A few corporals remained to lead the teams around. What they were bothering with she didn't care. She was only glad that the jacket allowed her to blend in, if only from a distance. She wasn't wearing the full uniform, which was a good thing if someone caught her sneaking around where she shouldn't be. She could always say that some random officer had lent her his jacket before having to run off, and with a few feminine charms she could probably even get away with having snuck in.

It wasn't too difficult making it to the center of the park. What she could see of the Crystal Monument seemed intact. But a cleaning team piled around it, investigating as well as trying to preserve what they were picking off the ground. Miranda went closer, trying to avoid scrutiny. The trick was all in timing the people closest and allowing them to look away before moving, while keeping any movement collected and confident for anyone looking from further away. One of these days, the fact that she didn't follow in any formation was going to give her away like a skunk in a perfume factory. But tonight she didn't have to worry about that; there was no particular formation. They barely had groups amongst themselves. Must be rookie night…

It wasn't difficult sneaking as close as she deemed necessary, but getting a few good shots with the investigators all in the way proved troublesome. All she wanted was to get back to her apartment, take a hot shower, and stuff her face full of cookies and cream ice cream. And it wasn't because she needed a comfort food! She refused to feel sad over the angels, because giving in to the sadness meant defeat, and she wasn't defeated yet. Krad would regret what he'd done. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

A couple hours passed before she was walking back out of the park, the memory of her digital camera filled a good amount. Her tennis shoes squeaked as she stepped along the cobblestones, a corner of the camera held in her mouth as she shook the disguising jacket off. Pulling her wrist through the small strap of the camera, Miranda took her dirt-caked hair out from its low ponytail and shook it. A noise clattered and scraped over the cobblestones behind her. It reminded her of glass falling and being stepped on, only without the crunch of weight crushing it. Stopping and turning immediately, at first she didn't see anything but the gate of the park and the police with their lights in the distance.

Miranda gave a sigh of relief, but jumped when something heavy stepped on one of her feet. She looked down and screeched. What could have been a human-shaped lizard made of different lightly-colored see-through crystals was looking up at her with absently clear eyes. Miranda caught her mouth with both hands and held back further screams. There was no telling what might set this thing off. But it took every ounce of willpower she had, and then some. The creature snorted glittering particles out its nose. Tiny wings clinked together from its back, making Miranda gasp in delight and forget all about her fear.

It was a baby dragon! _An artwork_, something in her mind reasoned. This was the type of thing Dark was always after, and Krad was always trying to protect. Was it man-made? Couldn't be—man couldn't create supernatural creatures. It was absurd to think that!

"Why are you following me, little one?" she asked, bending down to it. It nearly reached to her knees. The dragon gave a sharp half squeak, half squawk in answer. Miranda tentatively put a hand on its transparent sea foam-green head, just a little nervous of its hook-shaped muzzle. Behind the slight rise of its skull, two rough bumps sat on either side. She guessed this must be where horns were to grow as it got older. That was, if it could grow… How did crystal grow?

The dragon leaned into her touch, then quickly darted its muzzle into the sleeve of her sweatshirt. She pulled away in surprise as much as shock from the cold crystal touching against her wrist. A long black feather dangled from the dragon's mouth.

"How did that get there? And why was it…?" But even as she wondered out loud, she knew it was a form of protection from Dark. Did that mean something would have happened had Krad truly meant to hurt her? Or maybe it only activated when the killing blow was being dealt. She scratched at the back of her dirty scalp in frustration. The dragon squawked again.

"Were you only following me for that? If so, take it. I don't want it." She stood up and turned around, heading for her car, exasperated that _everything_ coveted the angels. Even her still… Tinkles and scratches let her know that the dragon was still following her. On impulse she checked her other wrist. Sure enough, another black feather was there. She pulled it out and let it flutter to the cobblestones. The steps of the crystal dragon moved faster and she was sure it scooped up that feather, too.

Unlocking the driver-side door, she tossed her items to the passenger seat, but before she could step in the little dragon did. She hesitated, and then smiled. The dragon twisted its head back and then up to look at her. Its expression was hard to read because of its see-through form, but to her it was as if it was questioning why she wasn't already in the car.

"Coming home with me then, eh?" She shrugged, sliding in. The dragon squeaked and crawled from by the pedals to the floorboard of the passenger side. "I hope you're not too much trouble. I've always dreamed of having a dragon, but after the angels... Anyway, you'd better be quick to train. I'm going to be busy tomorrow tracking down the kid that was tailing me all night."

With that, she shut the door and cranked the motor, strapping on her seatbelt before squealing tires off into the night.

**-****)*(****-**

**BewareTheIdesOfMarch –** I'm glad to know you're on-board, and a writer of humor as well. I adore your one-shot of Dark. Ahem, I know I answered your review already, but I thought one of your questions deserved to be answered out here, as I'm sure others have wondered the same thing. My OCs don't bear Japanese names because I picture Azumano as a very diverse town, sort of like where I live with all the mixtures of races and backgrounds. Thanks very much for your interest and review. I'm sure you remember how excited I got when I remembered your anonymous username from a review for "PFL". The fictional drugs are nearly here! Well, technically they already are... You'll see. ^_^

**Kathrine Daystar –** It's back. LOL! That's what a sequel means to me. Thanks for pointing out what you did. It made me reevaluate my writing. I feel now I'm leaning towards drama while trying to inject the light-hearted humor back into it. But the craziness is about to begin (I can't wait!), and somehow I've got to balance all the elements of this story. ...And I've got a dash of romance to boot. Wish me luck!

**DawnsEternalTwilight –**(Sings in tune of Wedding March) Here comes the Drugs...uh...here comes the Drugs! LOL! I don't know the song, so I can't butcher it right. XP Molten wasn't in this chapter, but she will be in the next. And it really is a mystery whether Carlos is a good guy, or bad. And _he_ wasn't in this chapter either! Shame on you laughing at the A/N of last chapter... Or is that shame on me? Either way, poor Krad. Do you feel as sorry for him after what he's done here?

**Sapphiet –**I must say this every time, but ENERGY GALORE! Where do you get it all? There's so much of it, it perks me up just reading it! -snort- Images of a fat chibi Dark are still floating in my head! Gah! I'm still wondering what it was you censored in the review...


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